The Mirror of Cosmaruri
by Frederick Grace
Summary: Fear. A basic human instinct. Everyone is afraid of something. Death, lonliness, growing old. What were they afraid of? Chapter 2: "I don’t think hell is fire and pitchforks at all, Siri. I think its colder than a thousand icicles. Cold like The Mirror."
1. Dementophobia

**Disclaimer:** Characters owned by J K Rowling, obviously. The Mirror, imagined/owned by myself.

**Summary: **For everything in this universe, there is an opposite. Yin and Yang, Fire and Water, Light and Dark. So, for the Mirror of Erised, that shows you the deepest and most desperate desires of your heart, surely there must be an opposite? Beware, for when you look into the Mirror of Cosmaruri, you will see the darkest, most terrible nightmares – you will see whatever you fear the most.

**The Mirror of ****Cosmaruri**

**Dementophobia**

It was a blissfully ordinary winter's day in mid-December, and the sun was rising slowly over Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The rough grey stones were blanketed in thick white snow that sparkled like a million diamonds, giving the school the appearance of a castle straight out of a fairy tale. Softly falling flakes whirled around in dizzying spirals, all dancing their own celebrative dance. Candle light spilled out of the hundreds of windows, in fat, golden and rose-pink smudges. It looked almost magical.

Muffled sounds of laughter and shrieks of delight echoed through the many corridors, the sounds of joy and children being children breathing life into the building.

It was the last day of term, and students were hurrying to the Great Hall for their last breakfast together, before most of them would return home for the Christmas Holidays. Inside, the enchanted ceiling sent snow falling, and dissolving, over the heads of the students, all chatting excitedly. One little group of students, however, seemed to be making (and causing) most of the uproar single-handedly. This in itself was nothing new – students were so used to the Marauders frequent cries of "food fight!" and random attempts to jinx passers-by (mostly Snape), that there was a permanent circle of empty seats surrounding the four boys. It had also become the fashion to wear Bubble Head charms and Protego shields around oneself while dining – just in case.

Today was no exception. Sirius was standing atop the Gryffindor table, arms spread wide, and head flung back, trying to eat the enchanted snow. James was howling with laughter, and standing on the bench, throwing bits of food at Sirius' open mouth – an irresistible challenge. Peter was clapping enthusiastically whilst hiding under his seat – he had once again woken up last, and would therefore be subject to "Snivellus Penance". You see, the Marauders had decided to be that bit more mature after That Incident, and Prefect Remus yelling at them to "treat others how you would like to be treated!" So, taking this quite literally, they were eerily nice to Snape for about a week, before he snapped one Thursday afternoon and burst into tears when Sirius offered to lend him a quill. Growing tired of a terrified Snape, and Sirius' random bursts of evil laughter, Remus devised a plan. For every jinx, hex and random prank flung in Snape's direction, one of the four of them must be prepared to be jinxed, hexed or pranked in exactly the same way. And today, it would be Peter.

Fortunately for the cowering rat animagus, Snape seemed to be avoiding the Great Hall, almost as if- "You don't think he's avoiding us, do you Moony?" whined Sirius as he plonked himself down next to the werewolf, and landed his elbow in the butter. Remus, laying his book aside, and swiftly moving the jam out of reach of Sirius' other flailing limb, raised an eyebrow. "Why on _earth_ would Snape be avoiding _you_? Its not like you've _ever_, I don't know, _turned his clothes invisible_, or charmed his hair _pink_, or turned his pumpkin juice into POISONOUS ADDERS, is it?" Sirius frowned, evidently giving the question some serious thought, before he gave in and grinned.

"I see your point. But what'm I s'posed to do without darling Snivellus here to torment?!" Hiding his laughter, Remus turned to face his friend properly. ""Speak properly, Sirius. And firstly, "_darling Snivellus_?" I wouldn't let James hear that if I were you. Secondly, what happened to snow-eating, or whatever it was you were trying to do just now?" Huffing slightly at the light teasing, Sirius rearranged his face into a rather adorable pout. "Can't reach the snow. And James kept stuffing baked beans up my nose." Remus choked on his juice and grinned across the table at James, who stopped pigging out on the bacon long enough to give Remus a cheeky wink in return. Sirius caught the look and scowled. "It's not _fair_ Moony! Padfoot WANTS the SNOWFLAKES!" Remus, sensing a Black Tantrum coming on, looked thoughtful. Then his resolve crumbled and he smiled helplessly. "The things I do for you, Padfoot." He mumbled under his breath, before pointing his wand at the magical sky.

"Finite Incantatem!"

Immediately the shield dissolving the snow evaporated, causing icy flakes to rain down on the students of Hogwarts. They remained blissfully aware of the fact, however, until James leapt up and summoned a fistful of flakes with a war cry of "SNOWBALL FIGHT!" The snow ball promptly met with the face of one Severus Snape, who had unwisely decided to enter the room at that exact moment. There were three long seconds of silence, during which Remus calmly packed up his books, Sirius took one last swig of pumpkin juice, and Peter tried to decide whether it was worth running for it, or if he should just accept his fate. His mind made up, he leapt to his feet, and ran. He had got no further that a few steps, when he was quickly buried under three simultaneously thrown snowballs. Apparently that was all that was needed to ignite a full scale revolt at Hogwarts. Students leapt up, Houses uniting to form armies, all immersing themselves in a 1000 person snowball fight. The teachers tried, and failed, to stop the mayhem, but Dumbledore just wasn't helping. With a cry of "If you can't beat them…" He had launched himself into a full scale snow-war with none other than McGonagall herself. By the time order had been restored, and the ceiling charms replenished, and people were beginning to look for the perpetrators of the chaos – it was discovered that the Marauders had already quickly and quietly disappeared.

If anyone had cared to look, they would have found them hurtling along the third floor corridor, chasing after what looked suspiciously like a fat grey rat. Sirius was running full pelt, and James was staggering along, weak with laughter. Remus loped alongside them lazily – he could've beaten them all without even breaking into a sweat, but the thrill is in the chase. Peter tumbled headlong down a flight of stairs, and dived into a suit of armor. Sirius gave a crow of triumph, and whipped out his wand, still running. All seemed to be lost for poor Peter, when quite by chance, Sirius tripped, sending his Summoning Jinx hurtling through the stair below.

Later, he would look back, trying to find someone, anyone, to blame for the events that followed. He came up with many answers – himself, for using a summoning charm, James for shoving baked beans up his nose, Remus for un-charming the ceiling, Peter for running, Padfoot for chasing. But when he thought about it… When he really thought about it, there had to be only one logical explanation. It was fate.

You see, quite by chance, the step the Sirius accidentally summoned had been cursed, long, long ago, and the sudden burst of Sirius' magic splintered the stone in a burst of white fire, freezing flames and waves of Dark Magic, engulfing Sirius whole, and sending him plummeting into the inky blackness beneath his suddenly unsupported feet.

He was falling, through the darkness, his screams echoing around the chasm, but nobody heard. Just as the shock of the fall began to fade, and surprise gave way to the panicky feeling that he would never stop falling, his body met with an unforgivably hard stone floor, his ribs cracking with the impact. He lay there, winded for a moment or two, his mind whirling. _**Where the hell am I? What the hell happened? Where is everyone? **_He sat up slowly, biting back a cry as his ribs gave a sharp stab of protest and he was forced to lie back down.

Shivering he blinked away tears of panic, and called out shakily. "James? Peter?" Gritting his teeth, he cast a pain numbing charm and scrambled unsteadily to his feet. Beads of cold sweat rolled down the back of his neck and he blinked, bright white spots fizzing in front of him, blurring his vision. Tentatively he called out again. "R…Rem? Remmie? Remus! REMUS! MOONY!" He staggered forwards, and fell to the ground again. He spat, tasting blood and grasped his ankle. "Yup." he mumbled, spitting again, a tooth hitting the uneven stone floor with an almost melodic tinkle. "Definitely broken." He shivered again, and pulled his robes tighter around him.

He drew an Exploding Snap card from his pocket, and transfigured it into a cloak. Keeping his wand firmly grasped in a shaking hand, he crawled forwards, using his free hand and an elbow to drag himself forwards. Casting a swift Lumos, he looked around and couldn't help the gasp that escaped him. The blue-gold light bursting from the tip of his wand lit up the chamber, letting him see the intricately carved walls, the high, vaulted ceiling that seemed to go on forever, and the- _**Oh Merlin. Oh, oh Merlin. Is that-?**_

Sirius felt bile rise in his throat as he saw. A large, rectangular object, the size of a wardrobe, covered in a deep grey dust sheet. And hanging in front of it, by a school tie- Sirius turned away, retching. He stood up, ignoring the stabbing pains in his ankle. "Relashio." He whispered, and the body fell, crumpling to the floor. Sirius knelt down next to the boy, and brushed back his hair. The Slytherins face was distorted in a wretched grimace of death, his jaw slack. His face was covered in old, dried blood, and what would once have been his eyes- Were now just empty sockets, bloodstained and leering. Sirius choked back a sob as he saw the boys hands, frozen into claws, his fingers stained. The boy had clawed out his own eyes.

His body smelt like decay, but the dusty room had done a good job of preserving the corpse. Sirius gulped anxiously, wondering why anyone would make their way all the way to this creepy room, just to kill themselves. And like this? Why claw out his eyes? Where was his wand? Sirius blinked sweat out of his eyes and looked around, the Lumos sending eerie shadows spilling out all around him. He eventually found the boys wand, broken and gnawed on by rats, discarded in a corner. He carefully picked up the two pieces and placed them in his pocket, his breathing shallow and unsteady. He spun around, his breathing gradually getting faster, his mind buzzing, his heart racing. _**What if he didn't come here? What if he fell? And couldn't escape-**_

Sirius shook his head, refusing to even entertain the notion that he would end up the same way as the poor Slytherin. He scrabbled around on the floor, until he found a loose chip of flint. Once transfigured, it made a marvelous pick axe. Raising it above his head, he brought it smashing down into the slate, buckling it, shattering it, revealing the dirt beneath. He couldn't stop the tears as he kept digging, digging and digging. Once he deemed it big enough, he half carried half dragged the corpse to the attempted grave and failing the ability to lay him down gently, he shoved him in, and rolled him over. He picked up the tie, and bound it round his empty eyes, whispering apologies as his tears fell. He crossed the unknown student's hands on his chest, and swiftly repaired the floor tiles. Then, with a small blade from his pocket, he carved into the stones: "Here Lies a Slytherin. A Student of Hogwarts. A Wizard."

Sighing, he staggered back, the blade falling with a clatter to the floor. He registered it dimly, and fell backwards, his legs no longer working. His back met with a hard surface, and he slid down, dragging the dustsheet with him. A few screams and moments of blind panic later, and the dustsheet was lying, blazing at his feet, his heart beating hard enough to burst through his skin. Gasping, he tipped his head back, leaning on whatever was behind him. He placed a hand flat on his chest, mumbling as he did so. "Easy there, Sirius. Just an old sheet. Its okay, just a sheet. A dustsheet. Covering-" He froze as he felt the cold seeping out of whatever he was resting against. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, before slowly turning his head to the side, looking round, further, further-

He let out a scream loud enough to wake the dead, and threw himself backwards away from the eyes. Grey eyes, wild and terrifying, the echo of his fathers. His own. It was a mirror. He knelt up, and placed a hand flat on the mirror, staring at himself. He looked almost deranged. His hair was mussed, and there was blood dripping out of his mouth and nose. He gulped and then something swinging in his peripheral vision caught his eye. Slowly, slowly, he looked up.

The corpse looked back. There, above his kneeling reflection was a body, hanging by a gold and red tie, black hair matted. He was breathing faster, his head spinning. He knew, even before it span round, what he would see. There. His own face, distorted, his eye sockets empty and bleeding as he twitched and choked in the throes of death.

This time he couldn't even scream, just scrabbled backwards, not even standing up, until he hit the opposite wall, his mind clouded with terror. How was he there? How was he hanging from the ceiling, and sitting here against cold stone? He looked up slowly, turning his grey eyes to the body-

There was no body. He tipped his head back, tears of frustration bubbling from underneath tightly closed eyelids. "C'mon, Sirius, c'mon! It's just a mirror, just a stupid mirror…" He dragged himself upright and walked shakily back towards the ornately framed mirror that glowed eerily in the wand-light. He stopped a few feet away and closed his eyes tightly. He'd just walked over the grave of the Slytherin. "Sorry." He whispered, gulping, and risking a peek at the mirror. His own terrified reflection stared back. Sirius slowly raised a hand and waved, and the mirror copy did too. He let out a gasping sigh of relief, and turned- wait.

He turned back to the mirror, and walked forwards. That was him alright. But the Mirror Sirius' hair was immaculate, tied back in a ribbon like Lucius Malfoy's. Sirius frowned and raised his free hand to the back of his head. He let out a very unmanly shriek as he tore the ribbon away from his head, and flung it to the ground. It was his school tie, which had been draped loosely around his shoulders. Shaking, Sirius looked back at Mirror Sirius. The copy sniffed disdainfully, before his face broke into an eerie grin. Sirius watched with morbid fascination as his pristine reflection seemed to become a younger, better looking version of his father. It was still Sirius, with Sirius' bad posture and somewhat vampiric taste in clothing. But… His eyes were cold and hard, and the life that seemed to sparkle in them completely gone. It was a bit like looking at a dead copy of himself really, and Sirius would have been convinced that this was indeed the case if it wasn't for the cold smirk of the lips, and the haughty lift of the jaw, as though dismissing Sirius entirely. And there- there on Mirror Sirius' hand. His father's ring. And his father's cane. In his father's study. Paintings of mudbloods burning adorned the walls, and there- Sirius gagged and leapt back. Under Sirius' dragon skin boot-clad feet, a wolf skin rug. But not any wolf skin rug, a werewolf skin rug. And not just any werewolf skin rug, for that shade of amber, those tawny markings… That was _Remus_! He had morphed into his father and turned Remus, his own, darling Remus into a _rug_.

Sirius fell to his knees, his hands clutching desperately at his hair. "I didn't, I wouldn't!" But there it was, in full Technicolor. He watched as the image changed again, him, dueling James. Him plunging a dagger deep into his best friends chest, and- "Oh, oh no, no, no!" moaned Sirius, as Mirror Sirius _ate James' heart_, and laughed. "Oh God…" He whispered, and retched suddenly as he tasted blood in his mouth. It took a few frantic seconds of gagging and clawing at his bloody face before he remembered his broken nose. He sat heavily, sobbing, his nose running. "Stop it…" he whispered, pleading with the Mirror that seemed to know, seemed to know exactly what he feared. Mirror Sirius was standing there, torturing people, standing amongst the Slytherins, and he was the most evil of them all. More images, faster and faster. Regulus, burning alive at his own hand, his mother telling him she was So Proud, James screaming, hatred, so much hatred, and Remus…

Again and again, Sirius watched as his crazed Mirror-self killed his best friends, the people he loved, again and again and again.

He was clawing at his face, moaning in pain as he watched himself be consumed by the Black Insanity that ate his father. It ate his mother, and his little brother, and now, it had engulfed him too.

One final image of himself, silver gun with silver bullets twirling in his hands, and then it was gone, in a whirl of black fire. Sirius was breathing heavily, his eyes shut, his head bowed. Wearily he looked up, and flinched. His mirror self was laughing again and he could hear it, high and cold, insane.

"Stop laughing," Sirius whispered. "Please, please stop laughing." But the laughter wasn't stopping; it was getting louder, louder, insane and evil. His hands were held tightly over his ears, and he screamed at the pain of the sound, his own yells lost in the madness. He felt his eardrums shatter, and leapt to his feet, only to fall in a wave of dizziness and pain. He searched the floor blindly as blood ran into his eyes, until he found what he was looking for. He stood, his Gryffindor strength making one last stand against it all.

Mirror Sirius laughed as Sirius turned and swung the pickaxe with all his remaining strength. The metal hit Mirror Sirius hard on the shoulder – but it sent the real Sirius spinning backwards over the stones, his shoulder ripped open and bleeding profusely. He gaped at the un-damaged glass, ignoring the laughter that was causing his sanity to bleed out through his ears. His gaze fell to the grave of the Slytherin boy, and finally, finally Sirius knew how he died.

If he wanted to kill Mirror Sirius, he'd have to kill himself, because Mirror Sirius was him.

Future him.

Sirius let out a dry sob and cried out in pain once more, as he realized that with that last fall, one of his broken ribs had pierced the skin. He looked down at himself, bleeding, dying, and let out a choked whimper. "Oh, Merlin help me." He looked once more to the mirror, and that was his undoing.

Out from the mirror there seemed to pour an endless torrent of nightmares. Black and snarling, reaching out for him with fingers of fire, and ice, that froze his heart and glazed his eyes. Creatures that stole his breath and ate his soul. He could feel himself dying, lying there on the cold stone as the evil tore away his strength, his heart, his resolve.

His mind felt like it was being crushed, he couldn't see, couldn't breathe, couldn't think-"Sirius!"

Suddenly the world went quiet.

Sirius didn't move; just lay there, eyes closed. He could hear it again, James' voice, calling his name. But it couldn't be James, because James was dead, Sirius killed him, Remus too- "Sirius! Answer the goddamn mirror! Where are you? Sirius?! SIRIUS!" He staggered to his feet, not looking at the mirror, his eyes screwed shut. He pointed his wand to the ceiling and whispered, "Bombada". Somewhere, he could hear an explosion, shrieks of surprise. James was yelling something, but it was muffled, distorted. He swayed slightly, and pressed a hand to the still bleeding wound in his shoulder. He could hear people, calling his name, as though from miles and miles away.

He could hear Remus.

The werewolf sounded near hysteria, and Sirius couldn't help but smile uselessly at the sound of his voice. "I'm coming, Remmie. I'm coming." He threw his head back and with a flourish of his wand, and a sharp cry of "Ascendio!", he was hurtling towards the ceiling, his mind going blank as he spun upwards, out of the chamber, and smacked back-first straight into the ceiling above the third floor corridor staircase, and tumbled to the ground, the once gaping chasm silenced once more.

He felt himself being rolled over, and caught a glimpse of tears in Remus' eyes, yellow gold with fear, before he finally, finally allowed himself to fall into unconsciousness.

**Author's Note:**

In case you didn't quite figure – Dementophobia is a fear of insanity.

If you have any ideas about which characters you'd like me to feature, or what their phobias should be, review, and let me know m'kay?


	2. Selenophobia

**Disclaimer:** Characters owned by J K Rowling, obviously. The Mirror, imagined/owned by myself.

**Summary: **For everything in this universe, there is an opposite. Yin and Yang, Fire and Water, Light and Dark. So, for the Mirror of Erised, that shows you the deepest and most desperate desires of your heart, surely there must be an opposite? Beware, for when you look into the Mirror of Cosmaruri, you will see the darkest, most terrible nightmares – you will see whatever you fear the most.

**The Mirror of ****Cosmaruri**

**Selenophobia**

It had started out as such an ordinary day, filled with snow, laughter, and an unholy amount of coffee. Then the world had been turned upside down, the ground tugged out from under his feet. Remus felt like the sky was falling as he watched Sirius disappear in a whorl of flames, his eyes wide in terror and shock. He didn't really remember much of the few minutes that followed – Moony was far too agitated. He could vaguely recall James yelling loud enough to wake the dead, Peter cowering in the suit of armour, and Moony… Moony was snarling and howling, trying to smash through the very solid marble step through which Sirius had disappeared. And that was all. He remembers the world turning blood red with fear and rage, and then-

Sirius fell up through the floor, smashed into the ceiling with a sickening crack, and tumbled to the floor. Remus had rushed forwards and rolled him over with a relieved cry of "Siri!" But his voice died in his throat as he took in the state of his friend. Sirius was pale as death, and there was so much _blood_. _**Oh God… Sirius…**_

The next few frantic moments felt like something of a dream. He couldn't move, couldn't hear. He could smell Sirius' blood, and it smelt so good. He retched and turned away, his eyes pooling with tears as he tried desperately to push Moony away. It wasn't working. He was shivering with the effort of not mauling Sirius' corpse then and there. He let out a low, guttural moan and fisted his hands in his hair, bent double with the effort of not moving. He could dimly hear Peter's voice, as though from underwater. "James! James, look at Moony! What do we do, James, what do we do?!" He could smell James' fear as the taller boy whirled round, and he looked up, eyes feral and cold. He will always remember the look of horror on James' face, as Remus licked his bloodstained lips, and leapt forwards.

He woke up in the Hospital Wing, disorientated and alone. He blinked, the harsh white lights playing havoc with his already sore head. He let out a small whimper and sat up slowly. _**Why am I here? Was it the full moon? I don't… Oh God!**_ His memories surged back, hitting him like a sledgehammer. He flopped back against the pillows and let the tears spill over. _**What happened – did Moony take over? Did I transform – Oh God did I kill them? Are they dead? James, Peter, all of them, everyone, Sirius…**_ "Sirius! SIRIUS!" He was dimly aware of Madam Pomfrey telling him to hush, but it was no good. He tumbled out of the Hospital Bed, and scrambled to his feet, looking around wildly.

"James!" His spectacled friend turned towards him, and Remus noticed, with a pang, that he had his wand clutched in his hand. "James, I wouldn't, I wasn't! James, James, is he dead?" He hated how he couldn't find the words, how nothing seemed to be making sense, how James seemed to be staring into his soul, judging him. Eventually, however, James shook his head slowly. "No. He's not dead." Remus frowned. James was definitely hiding something. "But?" he asked tentatively, his voice breaking ever so slightly. James turned away, shaking his head. "I… Moony, I thought… Jesus Moony!" He whirled round, and Remus could see tears in his eyes. "I had to, okay? I thought you were gonna KILL him! I had to… I'm sorry." Remus frowned, bewildered.

"Sorry? James, you don't have to be sorry! I… I thought I was going to kill him too." His voice was soft, his heartbreak plain to see. James was at his side in seconds, and Remus seemed to crumple in on himself, tears falling thick and fast. "Its okay, Remus. You didn't kill him; he's going to be okay, Rem. He's gonna be fine." Remus said nothing, just enveloped James in a rib-crushing hug, and took a deep breath, trying to compose himself. He nodded vaguely before straightening up and heading slowly towards Sirius' bed.

Nothing could have prepared him for the sight of the person he loved most lying still, as though dead. He reached out, and took Sirius' hand, the tears never stopping. "What… Why isn't he waking up, Jamie?" He asked mournfully, sounding like a lost little child. James placed a hand on his shoulder and cleared his throat. "Well, we don't… We don't exactly know, Rem. We got him here as soon as we could, and by then there was, ah, substantial blood loss. A broken ankle, his collar bone was completely shattered, and there was some massive gash in his shoulder, almost like-" James voice broke and Remus placed his hand over James', a wordless sign of comfort. James continued slowly, his voice mechanical and detatched. "He had five broken ribs, two of which actually punctured the skin, and one punctured his lung. He had a broken nose, split lip, three lost teeth, burst eardrums, and god only knows how much internal trauma." He paused, and Remus gulped, his mind reeling. "He was dying, Rem." whispered James softly. Remus nodded, his mind lost in a tangle of semi-plausible explanations. Nothing seemed to make any sense, however, so he just sighed and asked the dreaded question. "Will he… I mean, will he ever wake up?" James shrugged and sighed too.

"I don't know, Remus. I just don't know." He turned away and Remus reached out, stroking floppy dark hair out of Sirius' eyes. Sensing that James was still turned away, he bent over and placed a kiss on Sirius' forehead. "It's okay, Siri. I'm here now. I won't hurt you, Sirius. I'm here now, it's all gonna be okay. It's gonna be fine-" He broke off, frowning. Sirius' heartbeat had increased, and his eyes had moved. "Sirius! Siri, you're awake!" The boy before him stiffened, as though willing everyone around him to think him unconscious. "Sirius! You lazy prat! I know you're awake! I can hear it!" James had returned, his eyes wide and questioning. "Sirius!" Remus reached out and shook him gently. "Sirius, it's okay, it's me, its Remus! Its Remmie, Siri, and James!" He felt Sirius stiffen again, and he shrugged, perplexed. "James, he's awake, but for some reason, God only knows what, he doesn't seem to want to be." James stared down at his friend, equally bemused. "Well. I'll, err, go and find Madam Pomfrey. You… You try and wake up our Sleeping Beauty then, Rem." Remus smiled slightly and nodded, waving to James as he left the Infirmary.

Re-drawing the curtains around Sirius' bed, Remus sighed and sat down next to the supposedly unconscious boy. Frowning down at the un-moving body of his very best friend, he suddenly realised what it was Sirius wanted. He carefully lay down next to Sirius, and hugged him gently. "It's okay now, Siri. It's okay. Everything is going to be fine." He could feel Sirius shivering in his arms as though cold and subconsciously drew the animagus closer. "Shh, shh, it's okay. It's okay to wake up. It's okay Padfoot." Sighing at the lack of response he laid his head next to Sirius', his arms still firmly wrapped around his friend. Taking a deep, shuddering breath he began to sing softly, an old lullaby his mother used to sing to him before- Anyway.

His voice drifted over the Hospital Wing, seeming to cast everything in moonshadows and violet twilight. Shadows dimmed out of focus, and the world seemed to sigh lazily, blinking and slightly unreal, like that dusky shade of blue before the stars come out. Remus dimly noted that Sirius was crying, but before he could stop singing, he was cut off by the sudden whirlwind of movement that was his Sirius. The animagus' arms were around his neck, and he was sobbing softly into the werewolf's shoulder. "Remmie, Remmie, you're here! I thought, oh God Remmie! I thought you were dead!" His stammered sentences were becoming more like howls of pain, and Remus, completely bewildered, couldn't for the life of him think of what to do next. Deciding it couldn't possibly make things any worse; he hugged Sirius tighter, and softly kissed the top of his head, murmuring gently to his evidently traumatised friend. Eventually Sirius calmed down a little, and the tears reduced from waterfalls back to actual teardrops. He looked up at Remus, his face pale, eyes red, hiccupping almost silently. "I… I didn't want to make you into a rug, Remmie, really I didn't! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry, I'll never, I would never, oh _Merlin _Remmie…" He fell silent, his face screwed up in – _**Is that fear? Or horror? I can't tell. But his eyes… Oh Jesus his eyes! **_Sirius' eyes, usually shining like liquid silver, soft and warm as silk were dull and cold, much like rock. Stones bleeding with terror. Almost like he'd seen the gates of hell itself. Almost like he'd seen his own death, almost like-

_**No. No, it couldn't be. Don't be stupid, Remus, it doesn't suit you. But the mir- No. No, he hasn't- I swore I wouldn't- But maybe…**_

Remus swallowed, and looked down at Sirius. "S…Sirius? Sirius, what… What happened to you? I… I mean, what… You didn't… I, what did you see?" He broke off, horror-struck at the look of terror in Sirius eyes. The other boy had frozen, barely even blinking, reminding Remus of a small rabbit staring into the headlights of an oncoming car. "It… Its okay, Paddy. You can tell me." But Sirius wasn't listening.

He was remembering.

Trapped in memories of blood, and pain, and fear, and complete, oh, such complete and total heartbreak.

He'd thought he would die from the pain of it.

They say tears can heal even the most shattered of hearts, but sometimes…

Sometimes there just aren't enough tears.

Sirius was breathing faster, too fast, his eyes wide and panicked. He looked up, and Remus' worried face, mouthing inaudible cries of desperation, was the last thing he saw, before his tired eyes rolled back into his head, and he collapsed back onto the bed.

The next thing he knew was the harsh glare of a million candles on whitewashed stone. The Hogwarts Hospital Wing. He tensed for a couple of seconds, before hesitantly cracking open one bloodshot eye. A quick glance around revealed three things. Firstly, he was completely alone in the room, with nothing but the dust bunnies under the bed for company. Secondly, the sky outside was darkening. Night was falling. Sirius shivered, and yanked his blankets up to his chin, making sure no limbs were left exposed to the creeping darkness. The third thing to catch Sirius' wandering eyes was a letter. Several pieces of parchment folded up, and stuffed in an unsealed envelope that simply read "Padfoot". Sirius blinked, and scooped up the letter hastily, before diving under his blankets, to read the letter by the light of a Lumos charm, gleaming from the end of his wand, which he had found (thankfully unbroken) on the bedside cabinet.

Smoothing out the slightly scrumpled sheets of parchment, he squinted at the squiggly black figures, until they rearranged themselves into the recognisable form of Remus' distinctive handwriting. Sirius blinked again, confused. _**Why? Why is Remus writing to me? What the- What? Did he- Did something happen? **_A quick flashback of the time Remus woke him up before, had him sweating nervously. _**Oh, oh crap. What did I say to him? Is he totally freaked out? Did I- I didn't… Oh God, tell me I didn't tell him about the mirror. I didn't want him to know! I never, ever wanted him to know!**_ He sighed unhappily, and squinted a bit more, the flowing inked letters forming words and phrases, those words and phrases finally making complete and devastating sense.

_Dear Padfoot._

_I hope that by the time you read this you've woken up a bit. I am also hoping that when I woke you before, you just remained in the throes of a nightmare, as opposed to having finally gone completely and totally insane. (I feel confident that it's okay to joke about this, as I assume if you were permanently in a semi-catatonic state of fear, you wouldn't have plucked up the courage to open the envelope. And if you find yourself still in said semi-catatonic state of fear, then congratulations for plucking up the courage to open the envelope, my fellow Gryffindor.)_

Sirius smiled slightly, grazing the parchment with his fingertips. Typical Remus. Trying to sound so light-hearted and failing so, so miserably. The other boys panic and worry was almost tangible in the air, and he could imagine Remus hastily scribbling away, his face crumpled in complete, heart-wrenching fear. Blinking, he moved his wand closer to the parchment, and read on.

_Now, Sirius. There is something I need to say to you, but I have no idea how to even begin, hence the letter. The thing is, Siri, I think… Well, I think I know what happened to you. And I'm pretty sure that right now you're freaking out, and worrying about how to tell me what you saw. Seriously, Sirius, you don't have to tell me. Not ever. Because I- Look, this is difficult to say. And I don't want you to hate me. Its not that I don't trust you, and I didn't lie, not really, it's just… It's not really the kind of thing one brings up in casual conversation. You of all people can appreciate that – assuming, of course, my assumptions are correct. I- Before I continue, I need you to promise both me and yourself, that if I haven't guessed right, then you wont read on. Im being serious, I really am. Its not that I don't want you to know, it's just that this story is impossible to understand if you haven't been there yourself. So promise me Siri. Please._

_Now. _

_Sirius, you saw the mirror, didn't you?_

_In that room, that goddamn room, the Grey Room, filled with stone and blood and The Mirror._

_It's taller than a man, and seems to grow the longer you look at it._

_And it feels cold, not like glass, or ice. Cold like death. Or the absence of life, of anything warm and good and loving. I don't think hell is fire and pitchforks at all, Siri. I think it's colder than a thousand icicles, colder than the touch of a corpse's hand. I think its cold like The Mirror._

_Sirius, you looked into the Mirror, and your nightmares stared back. _

_Am I right?_

_I hope im wrong. I hope I'm so, so wrong. Because I would not wish Hell upon anybody, least of all you._

_I would have looked, instead of you, Sirius. Remember that._

_Right now, you are either wondering what the hell I'm on about, Mirrors and Ice and Hell and all. Or your screaming, inside you head, your mind spinning out of control as you refuse to accept that I know. After all, how could I __**know**__? Well, Siri, I'll tell you. _

_**I've seen it too.**_

_It was my first year here, before we were friends. Before you knew me, before you knew Moony. Before any of the pranks we played, before any of those nights spent running wild with the trees as our guards, bathed in the light of the moon. So, so long ago. I can scarcely remember who I was before I met you, Sirius. I remember almost nothing except those lonely full moon-lit nights, and that day. The Day I found The Mirror of Cosmaruri. (Yes, it has a name. And yes, I looked it up. In the library. But that comes later, Siri. Much later.)_

_It was a regular Wednesday evening, and I had just been up to the Astronomy Tower (you know. The full moon repulses me, but the wolf inside… I just couldn't keep away. My will was weaker then, Sirius. Far weaker.) Anyway, I thought I was going to be late – perhaps watching the skies begin to darken, whilst as far away from safety as I could be, as my body waits to turn into a bloodthirsty monster… Not such a good idea. So I was running, down from the North Corridor, and down past that flight of stairs with the banisters carved like peacock feathers? Hidden behind that tapestry of the troll with the nose hair? Yeah, the one you bewitched to scream at Severus when he went past… SO. I was running, and panicking, and consequently not looking where I was going- and I ran right into the room. I think it must be enchanted, Sirius, to appear – or to ensnare us, when we are least expecting it. One moment I was running down some stairs, and the next- I've run right into the chamber. It was so dark, and so quiet. I couldn't hear anything, Sirius. And you know, about my ears. Sirius, I can hear the castle humming with magic and life. And all that was just, suddenly, gone. I stopped straight away, and turned to leave, but there was no door. Now, at this point two things flashed through my mind. One was a complete "Oh, Shit." The next was a "Thank Christ I'm Safe from the Moon." Now, the moonlight will reach me wherever I am – I can't just hide under ground and not transform, that's not how it works. But here… It was like nothing could reach me. Not moonlight, not sound… Nothing._

_So I cast a Lumos, and saw the mirror. Naturally, I had to investigate. I can't tell you how much it made me jump, pulling away that dustsheet, and seeing something staring back. I almost didn't recognise myself. I was pale, far paler than I am naturally. My hair was sticking up as though I'd been electrocuted, and my eyes… They weren't my eyes, Sirius. I know now, that that was just the Mirror getting warmed up. But then… I couldn't help but scream, Siri. And I'm not cowardly, I know that. But Moony's eyes, staring out of my face… Bloodthirsty and terrified. It's a lethal combination. And the next thing I know, my mouth is growing fangs, and I'm screaming and I'm screaming, and I can't breathe. Everything was going black and red, blurring and twisting around me._

_Somehow I staggered backwards, and my head met the cool reassurance of stone. Of course, it hurt like fuck, and it was probably the sudden glare of pain, and the tears that sprang to my eyes that calmed me. Mirror-Remus wasn't crying, or screaming. That wasn't my reflection. _

_I checked myself quickly, and reassured by the lack of fur or fangs, moved closer to the Mirror for a better look. And dyou what I saw?_

_Myself, sitting on my haunches in a half-crouch, my hair wild and matted, partially covering my gaunt face. And my eyes – My own honey eyes, glaring with all the venom of Moony's gaze. It was the wolf, looking out at the world, and using my body to do it. It was myself, having let Moony take control of me. I'd embraced the wolf, and in turn, it had destroyed me. The next point I realised was the blood. So much, so red, thick and dripping, semi-congealing on my torn robes, over my hands and my face, my teeth bared in a snarl, stained and pointed. Wolfish Mirror-Remus then smiled – a terrifying smile, filled with wickedness. And I was looking up, up at the night sky, and smiling at the moon._

_God, a shiver of disgust runs through me even now._

_But what I saw next- I can barely keep from screaming at the memory._

_Because then, then Sirius, then I saw you. _

_Remember, this is before we were even friends. But still, it was you I saw, and the look on your face is one I will remember til the day I die._

_Staring at me with such fear, such fear and disgust. Judging me, fearing me, __**hating**__ me. _

_That was when Mirror-Remus caught sight of you._

_I've never seen so much blood, Sirius, or heard such a scream._

_It never seemed to stop. _

_I, still un-transformed, was feasting on your flesh._

_Sirius, I…_

_It was hideous. _

_I doubt you want to hear much more._

_Let me just say, I still have nightmares. They're so real; that I wake up convinced there will be blood, un-cleansable, staining my hands, and my heart._

_Then, as I'm sure you did, I figured out the secret of the Mirror. If I wanted to destroy this future me, if I wanted to stop it laughing… If I wanted to stop myself from howling like the wolf I am, I had to kill Him. And to kill Mirror-Remus… I would have to kill myself. _

_So. I transfigured my tie into a silver sword, with a blade as long as my arm._

_Sirius, not all of my scars are from teeth and claws._

_I held that blade in a hand that didn't tremble once, and I plunged it into my chest with a smile. _

_All I can say is Thank Merlin for Albus Dumbledore._

_Somehow, he knew. _

_And somehow, he found me, pulled me from that seemingly inescapable pit of hell, and healed me himself._

_He saved my life._

_It seems that you succeeded where I did not. If anything, Sirius, this should reassure you._

_You are a Gryffindor. You will always be a Gryffindor. You belong here. You're braver than me, at any rate. _

_Anyway, I'll visit you soon Sirius, just to see if you're awake. _

_Just to see if life has returned to your eyes, just to see if you're back._

_It's only been a day,_

_But I've missed you._

_Remus._

**Author's Note:**

The Phobia: Selenophobia – a fear of the moon.

If you have any ideas about which characters you'd like me to feature, or what their phobias should be, review, and let me know m'kay?


	3. Eremophobia

Disclaimer: Characters owned by J K Rowling, obviously

**Disclaimer:** Characters owned by J K Rowling, obviously. The Mirror, imagined/owned by myself.

**Summary:** For everything in this universe, there is an opposite. Yin and Yang, Fire and Water, Light and Dark. So, for the Mirror of Erised, that shows you the deepest and most desperate desires of your heart, surely there must be an opposite? Beware, for when you look into the Mirror of Cosmaruri, you will see the darkest, most terrible nightmares – you will see whatever you fear the most.

**WARNING!** This chapter will contain **SLASH**, as in two blokes, in love. You have been warned.

**The Mirror of Cosmaruri**

**Eremophobia**

Sirius sat there, frozen in shock, his mind a swirling cloud of questions. Why had Remus never told him before? Why, how- how did he not notice? How could he, of all people, have not noticed that Remus- _his Remus!_ – had tried to _**kill himself?!**_ Sure it was back before they knew each other but… Sirius shivered, his heart aching. _I… I should have noticed. Surely, I would have felt it… I should have known. Oh, Merlin. I should have seen, I should have seen him. Saved him. _He stood, and keeping the blankets wrapped firmly around him, made his way to the window. He looked out at the sky, a dark inky black, like the softest velvet. Blinking back tears, he let his face tip up, like a flower seeking the sun. _The proof is there – he was mine to save. I failed him. My Remus. The proof is in the skies. Remus and Sirius, Moon and Star. And I let him think that- Wait. Oh, oh, fuck._ At that moment any of Sirius' coherent thoughts promptly disintegrated into a pile of rather desperately uttered swear-words. For a moment he stood as though frozen – the next, all that was left in the Hospital Wing was a pile of blankets crumpled on the floor, and a magically lit candle slowly burning to its timely end.

You see, as Sirius had been gazing forlornly at the night, something had caught his attention. A big, white, menacing something. Round and shining, like a glaring eye, maliciously watching over the world, casting everything in its revealing pale shadows. The moon.

The **full** moon.

By the time Sirius reached the Shrieking Shack, it was too late, far too late. As he bounded out of the dusty tunnel, eyes wide and panicked, he could hear screams reverberating from upstairs. He fell over his paws in his hurry to reach the old staircase, and crashed to the floorboards, dust prickling his sensitive nose, making his big grey eyes water uncontrollably. Shakily, he stood, and peered through a crack in the grimy windowpane. The sun was rising, casting the world once more in its golden warmth. He transformed, and stood, slowly, hanging his head. Sighing, he trudged glumly upstairs. So the screams had been Remus. Screaming in absolute agony as his body changed, mutated, broke and self-repaired. And he had been too late _again_. Cursing silently, and furiously swiping the tears from his cheeks, he cast a quick Alohamora and snuk tentatively into the main bedroom.

There, curled up, naked and bloody on the bed, was Remus. Sirius swallowed a sob and started forwards, walking past a sleeping (or unconscious) James and a still transformed Peter, who was hiding, trembling under the deformed grandfather clock. Evidently (from the amount of blood on James' robes, and Remus' battered body ;) it had been a bad night. They had needed him. He shivered, picturing Remus screaming for him, screaming in pain and then- James's body being torn into, flung away, hitting the walls with sickening cracks, as the werewolf went insane, trapped in this tiny room. Then, when James fought back, the wolf would turn on himself. And the end would begin.

Sniffing, one hand fisted in his robes, over his heart, as though to restrain the guilt that was threatening to devour him whole, he crept over to the bed. Slowly, and carefully, he sat next to Remus, and tugged off his long black school robes; draping them around Remus like a shroud, save for his uncovered face. Then, he lay down and gently wrapped his arms around the smaller boy from behind. Remus immediately relaxed, his head pillowing on Sirius chest, his breathing slowing, evening out. Sirius closed his eyes, burying his face in Remus' sandy hair, tears bubbling from under tightly shut eyelids, and running down his face, dampening the back of Remus' neck. His stifled sobs were growing louder, becoming more like great spasms of sorrow that shook his whole body, leaving him unable to think or breathe. Eventually he felt Remus stir, and turn around. Thin arms snaked around his waist, and small, delicate hands stroked his back softly, as though to tell him that he wasn't alone. Slowly his tears subsided, and he lay silently, eyes shut, reveling in the moment. His eyes blinked open, and met the comforting amber warmth of Remus'. "Hey Siri", the werewolf whispered, a small smile on his bloody face. Sirius very nearly dissolved into tears again, at the sound of his friend's voice. Shivering, he chewed his lip for a moment, before whispering back. "I read your letter, Remmy." Remus nodded. No more needed to be said. Remus knew, Remus always knew. He closed his eyes, grief and guilt finally beginning to ebb away, leaving a tiredness so deep that it seemed to be inside his very bones.

"Its okay, Sirius." Remus' soft voice broke into his little cocoon of half-sleep half-awake, snapping his drifting consciousness back to red alert. "Honestly. You couldn't have know, you-" Sirius made a sharp whining noise at the back of his throat, his recently discovered animagus side interfering as it always did when he was overly-emotional. "No. No, Remus. I should have known. I… I just… Remmy, you knew when… You just… I… Dyou ever feel it, Rem? This feeling, I can't describe it, it's like… Like you know me and I know you and, we just… Connect. Its like we fit, like two pieces of the same puzzle. Two sides of a coin. The moon and stars, Remus. That's what we are. The moon, and the stars. We're not supposed to be a Me and a You. We're US. We've always been US. Rem, I… I just…" He broke off, at the look on Remus' face. A look of such complete and utter understanding that he thought his heart would dissolve at his gaze. "Rem?" he whispered tentatively. "I… I think, I think I love you. Is… Is that okay?"

He fell silent as Remus' eyes fluttered closed, and his teeth bit down on rose petal lips. Remus bowed his head, and Sirius could feel him shaking. "Remmy? I'm sorry, Oh Christ I'm sorry. Did I? I mean, you don't have to… It's okay; I should never have said it, stupid, sorry…" His mumbled died away and he tried to move backwards. The force with which Remus suddenly clung to him took him completely by surprise. "R…Remus?" His voice slid up an octave, his eyes blinking rapidly. Remus had buried his face in Sirius' chest, and mumbled something completely incomprehensible, that sounded like "Lvyousidyut." Sirius blinked again, baffled. "Um, Remus, you're gonna have to say that again, I don't think my chest wanted my ears to hear…" Remus pulled back slightly, and Sirius was taken aback by the look of incandescent joy on his face. "I _said_ I Love You too, you idiot." Sirius gaped, and Remus laughed joyfully. "Y…you mean it?" Remus' grin faded to a smile of complete devotion. "Of course, Sirius. Moon and stars. This is how we're supposed to be. Together." Sirius nodded, words failing him, and Remus smiled complacently. They lay in silence for a moment, arms tight around each other, basking in this sudden feeling of golden warmth.

After a while, Remus cleared his throat slightly and Sirius looked at him. "You okay, Rem?" Remus nodded, biting his lip. "Yeah, I'm good Sirius. But… I can't stop thinking about it, Sirius. You, in that room, facing..." his voice hitched but he soldiered on. "I… I left you, in the hidden grey room, facing that, that… hellish mirror, and _**alone**_! I… I left you to _that_ ALONE." Sirius was already shaking his head, a sad smile on his lips.

"Remmy, it's not your fault, honestly it's not. And… Its okay, Remus. I… I won't let this defeat me. I've faced many of my fears before – this is no different. You said it yourself. I'm a Gryffindor. I will always be a Gryffindor. The house I belong in, the house of lions. I can be brave, Remmy. I can do this. With… With you beside me… I think I could bear anything." Remus smiled weakly, his eyes glistening with tears, and answered the unasked question that lay between them like an icy barricade. "I… Me too, Siri. I won't… Never again. I swear to you, never again. After all, Sirius, I could never stop my heart from beating, because it doesn't belong to me. Not anymore."

Sirius chuckled, and brushed a lock of hair back from Remus' pale face. Smiling, he whispered in Remus' ear, "You want to seal the deal then, My Own Moony?" Remus laughed too, a curiously happy sound, far too big and bright for this tiny, dismal room. "I thought you'd never ask, My Padfoot. My darling, darling Padfoot." There weren't any fireworks, or bursts of romantic music. There was just Sirius and Remus, Remus and Sirius, the way it was supposed to be.

Forgotten in the corner of the room, James Potter lay curled up, slumped against the wall, his head spinning, hazel eyes wide open in shock. _S…Sirius? And __**Remus**__?! T…Together? Wh… What the, what the __**hell**__ happened while I was asleep?_ Forcing his eyes shut again, he scrabbled silently in his pocket, until he found the cool, liquid-like softness of the Invisibility Cloak. Casting Muffliato on his feet, he swung the Cloak over his body, and snuk out of the room, leaving the other two boys curled up on the bed like a pair of sleepy puppies.

He burst in through the main doors, like an invisible storm, the night air bringing swirling currents of cold morning air and icy December rain into the slowly lightening castle. He stormed down the long corridors; eyes gleaming with what could possibly be tears, but could equally have been candlelight bouncing off his wonky glasses. His teeth were embedded in his bottom lip, blood already welling up, unnoticed by James, as he stormed up to the Gryffindor Common room, ripping off his Cloak with trembling hands. Shoving his way past a dozy Fat Lady, he marched through the common room – totally ignoring shrieks of protest as he barged his way through, even yelling at Lily, shoving her away into the red mists of anger when she tried to calm him.

"LEAVE ME THE FUCK **ALONE** EVANS! YOU NEVER SHOWED ANY INTEREST IN ME BEFORE, YOU DIDN'T GIVE A **SHIT** ABOUT ME! THEN, WHAT, THE SECOND SOMETHING HAPPENS, YOU'RE SUDDENLY MY BEST FRIEND?! YOU'RE NOTHING BUT A SHALLOW, UNCARING **BITCH**, WHO JUST WANT TO GET A BIT OF THE GOSSIP, SO YOU CAN LAUGH ABOUT ME WITH YOUR STUPID, STUPID FRIENDS!" He fell silent, his voice echoing in the suddenly silent room. His eyes were screwed shut, his chest heaving as though he'd just run a marathon. Lips pressed tightly together, a gash of red in his suddenly pale face; he whirled round and fled, seeking the safety of his bed, not speaking another word, leaving a gaggle of excitedly whispering Gryffindors, and Lily behind him. She watched him run, her heart suddenly and painfully reminding her that sometimes… Sometimes we fall in love when we least expect it. And by the time we've realized how we feel, it's just far too late to do anything about it.

He burst into his room and hurled the Cloak at his bed. It missed, and spiraled slowly to the floor like a big puddle of despair. Furious, James let out an anguished howl of rage and sorrow. His mind felt like it was on fire, buzzing with thoughts, so many, so many horrible, terrible thoughts. Thoughts of Sirius, HIS best friend, and Remus, Sirius and Remus, together, and him… "You're leaving me behind!" He couldn't help be scream again, that whispered admission of loneliness causing the rage to build up again. _I shouldn't feel this way! I should be happy, I shouldn't be this selfish! What's WRONG with me?! _Angered beyond all rational thought, his vision turned to pure white hot uncontrollable madness, and his fist met the wall with a sickening crunch. The pain burst through his anger, for all intents and purposes sobering him. He remained still for a moment or two, waiting for his heart to just let go and break, so he could mourn in peace. And finally, it snapped. All the tension, all the anger, the disbelief, the hurt, the betrayal built up to unbearable sadness, and he slid to the floor, broken hand resting limply on the floor, his face buried in his knees, as he cried.

For how long he sat there, he wasn't sure. He was dimly aware of the bright December sunshine beginning to stream in through the window, and Hagrid's roosters crowing loudly, clamoring like – well, like a bunch of roosters really. Eventually, when minutes had merged into hours, he was disturbed from his daze by the sound of footsteps on the staircase. He hurriedly scooped up the invisibility cloak, and dived back onto the window-seat, his invisible self crumpled up, knees clasped to his chest as he waited for the intruders to appear. The footsteps just ran straight past, and he sighed morosely, tugging the Cloak off again. _Y'Idiot. Wouldn't be much damn good hiding anyway. Moony and Padfoot would smell you out. __**So what do I do? **__Run. Run, Jamie boy. Run._ Soon, the only thing left in the Dormitory was a snoring Peter, who had gone back to the Dorm as Sirius had arrived at the Shack – consequently sleeping his way through everything.

Two bottles of Firewhisky and a game of solitaire (Exploding Snap Style) later, and James was feeling considerably better. He was sprawled out; belly first, on the carpeted floor of the Room of Requirement, his legs in the air and his chin in his hands. Ignoring the friction burn on his elbows, he stared resolutely forwards, determined to lose himself in the dancing flames of the fireplace, until either all he could see were ribbons of fluorescent white and glaring orange, or he'd figured this mess out.

_Right. So what the hell is the actual problem? I mean, Sirius… He's you're best mate, to be sure, but… Well, to be honest, you've always known, always seen this coming… _He snorted suddenly, a crooked smile spreading slowly across his tear-marked face. _Hell, it's even in their names! Sirius and Remus, Moon and Stars. Dog and Wolf. I guess this is how it's meant to be. Besides. You love them both anyway, and well… You wouldn't have parted with Sirius for anyone less, would you? _His smile grew to a full blown grin. _Yeah. There's no one anywhere more deserving of Sirius than Remus. They are kind of perfect, aren't they? But if they don't let me be best man, I'm gonna hunt them down, and kick their fairy arses all the way to China._

Sitting up, James tugged the Marauders Map from the pocket of his jeans, and spread it out on a wooden coffee table. "Thanks Room…" he mumbled distractedly, patting the table with one hand, and smoothing out the crumpled parchment with the other. "Right… Now, you lazy sods, you'd better not still be in bed…" He shuddered theatrically as his mind flew back to the two boys curled up on the rickety, semi-destroyed bed. A sudden pause and he grinned as his heart fizzed happily. "Bless… Of course they belong together. James, you stupid, stupid boy… No wonder you're a freakin' stag, you always charge around without thinking, antlers lowered…" His chuckles suddenly died away, as the mull of the Firewhisky began to ebb, and memories of that whispered conversation filtered back. First Remus anguished voice – if heartbreak had a sound, this would be it. _"I… I left you, in the hidden grey room, facing that, that… __**hellish**__ mirror, and __**alone**__! I… I left you to that ALONE!"_ And Sirius, his voice shaking slightly, belying the brave words…_ I won't let this defeat me. I've faced many of my fears before… _And then Remus again, making promises…_ I could never stop my heart from beating, because it doesn't belong to me…_ But what did that mean? _Bloody puppies, speaking in riddles… What mirror? I mean, I know Sirius' bed-head is nothing to be proud of, but it's not __**that**__ frightful… What're they talking about, fears? And… Did… Did Remus mean what I thought he meant? Why would he stop his heart from beating…? Unless- _"No!" The shout was suddenly loud, coarse and desperate. James staggered to his feet, the clouds of confusion settling in thicker than ever. Bewildered he spun around, one hand pressed to his forehead, the other flailing wildly in its makeshift bandages. For a few moments he couldn't quite remember how to breathe. And then he saw the map.

And then he had the idea.

And then he decided.

"Yeah! I'll find you, whatever you are, wherever you're hiding! Mirror of Fear, I'll find you. You tried to kill my friends. And if there's one thing I don't like, its people (or inanimate objects) trying to kill my friends. So listen to me, Mirror of Terror, I'll hunt you down. And I'll tear you from where you hang, and… And… Then, I'll take you to Dumbledore. Yeah. Dumbledore. We'll put an end to this. Today. This ends, today."

Three hours later, and Sirius and Remus finally found James. He was sat the corner of the library, pouring over several ancient editions of Hogwarts: A History, the Marauders Map spread center stage, over a sea of scribbled on bits of parchment and blunted quills. Sirius just blinked, slightly shell-shocked, while Remus clapped slowly. Sirius eventually blinked, and joined in with the applause, alerting James to the presence of the other two marauders. His head snapped up, and he grinned goofily at them. "Hey, Sirius! Remus! There you are! I was wondering when you two were gonna show up… I was beginning to think you'd decided to stay in the Shack all day, for, like, privacy y'know?!" He chuckled as Sirius went bright red, and stared at his shoes, and Remus started choking on air. "Just kidding, kidding!" He raised his hands in mock defense, and Sirius raised an eyebrow, attempting to regain some dignity.

"So… So you, uh, you, know, then. About…" He fell silent, still looking at his shoes. James regarded his friend pityingly for a moment, his hazel eyes unreadable. For a single heart-stopping moment, not one of the three boys knew what James would say next. Then the tension just dissolved as the stag animagus clapped a hand on his friends shoulder, beaming ear to ear. "'Course. It was a bit obvious y'know mate." Sirius and Remus both gaped at him, disbelief and hope written all over their somewhat pale faces. James laughed again. "God, your faces… I'm not gonna shoot you! I mean, you're in love, right? Nothing wrong with that. My two best mates, I'd be crazy not to be happy for you. Besides… You are meant for each other…"

Remus went slightly pink, and Sirius looked determinedly at the ceiling, his eyes suspiciously shiny. After a moment of furious blinking, he pulled James into a back-breaking hug. For a moment, all was like it used to be, Remus looking on fondly, as the two boys embraced as brothers. Then, Sirius let go. And took hold of Remus' hand. James smiled crookedly, his eyes suddenly looking old, and tired, as though he hadn't slept in a thousand years. "Right…" he murmured. "Right, anyway. You two lovebirds go and fornicate somewhere else yeah? I've got work to do…" Sirius frowned and opened his mouth to speak, to ask a thousand questions, that probably needed to be asked – but Remus got there first. "Course, James. We'll be outside, probably, cos the lakes frozen over and people are trying to skate across it without being chased by the Squid…" He trailed off at James' rather dead looking eyes, and polite smile.

"Sure thing, Rem. I'll join you later. But right now, I've work to do." For a second, his eyes seemed to break, and a strange look shone through, almost as though he were trying to reassure them. Remus frowned unnoticeably, but before he could wonder on James any more, Sirius pulled him away, enticing him towards glimmering ice, floodlit by the winter's sun, ruling over cloudless blue skies.

Alone in the dusty library, James continued to pour over his maps and diagrams, pausing only to take the occasional swig of Firewhisky from the bottle hidden under his chair. _I'm getting there… Five black-spots on this map, five empty squares. One – Gryffindor Tower. Then Slytherin Dungeons. Then the Ravenclaws and the 'Puffs. I've found you, found you all… _He chuckled again, laughing at his own brilliance, as he inked on the names of the four common rooms, hastily casting the required charms to make the barely legible scrawls part of the enchanted map. He paused suddenly. "Well. Well well well. That must mean – There. Right there. An undiscovered room. It must be in there, whatever it is, must be there… _The hidden grey room… That hellish mirror..._ His frown became a grimace, and he quickly vanished all remaining bits of parchment, and left the library, leaving only a stack of precariously leaning books and the bottle of drink, knocked over in his haste, spilling smoking golden liquid all over the mould-green carpet.

With the help of The Map, it didn't take James long to maneuver himself round the castle that he knew like the back of his hand, the castle that felt like home.

With the help of The Map, it didn't take him long to find the door to his own downfall.

It was a pretty nondescript door, really, pale grey-ish wood, and a wrought iron knocker in the shape of a lion's head, a snake emerging from its roaring mouth. James blinked at it for a while, before summoning every ounce of his Gryffindor courage, and knocking, once, twice, three times. For a while it seemed as though nothing would happen – but just as he raised his hand to knock again, the door slid open, revealing a thin stone passage. Nodding his head, as though to convince himself that what he was doing made some kind of sense, James cast a non-verbal Lumos, and stepped through the door. It instantly slammed shut behind him, filtering out the sounds of the school, cutting him off completely. Squaring his shoulders, James walked on, a Shield Charm just shy of tumbling from his lips. But there were no trapdoors, no falling boulders, no random sparks of fire or lightning, and no monsters. Nothing. Not even this, Mirror from the pits of Hell.

_Maybe… Maybe I got it wrong. But… Well, there were no hidden grey chambers, not on our map. So this must be it. It must be… Just around the corner…_ He continued walking for around a half hour, convincing himself that with each next step he would find what he was looking for. _And, why, Jamie-Boy are you looking for this mirror again? Just __**why**__ are you hunting for the very object that made your two best friends – both as strong as you, I might add- want to tear out their own souls through their noses using red-hot pokers? _James frowned. _Shut the fuck up!_ he told his conscience angrily. _You know, you sound like a hideous combination of the worst parts of Sirius and Remus mashed up together – and believe you me, that's not a good thing to sound like!_ His conscience properly silenced, he quashed all doubts with the thought of the look on his friends' faces when he told them he'd destroyed it – that he'd avenged what had been done to them, and that they never had to fear that stupid mirror again. Sirius would have that beaming grin of his, like a little kid on Christmas Day. And Remus would be smiling that pathetically pleased, and slightly bemused smile, like he couldn't quite understand why anyone would do this for him – it was the same smile that had appeared when they told him about becoming animagi… Actually, James remembered with a fond grin, he'd _cried_ at that. _Yeah. This is gonna be just the same. Sir James, rescuing his friends from the Big Bad Monster. I'm off on an adventure, and sure it's risky. But that's what heroes do, they risk things, risk their lives. I can do this. For them. For them._ And at the same time he reached his determined conclusion, the passageway widened out into a large grey chamber, the mirror looming in front of him like a soldier readying for war. James stopped, feeling suddenly awkward, like he'd just barged into Dumbledore's bedroom or something. Actually, scratch that. This feeling of overwhelming fright and stupidity – this was like walking _naked_ into _Voldemort's_ bedroom, and telling him you think he's stupid. "Um…" He stammered foolishly. "Sorry, I, uh… I got lost; I'll just… go, now…" He whirled round and made for the door, but it was too late. There was nothing there but unforgiving stone.

"Oh, fuck."

It was late, nearly nine in the evening when Sirius and Remus really began to worry. "But, Siri, I'm telling you, there was something wrong!" Sirius frowned, shaking his head obstinately. "Remmy, I told you, that was just him, freaking over…us…" Remus glared at him and sighed impatiently, as though Sirius were missing something completely, and glaringly obvious. "Okay, Siri. Who is this we're talking about? **James**. I never met a more understanding bloke. Sirius, he's your best friend, and he loves you like a brother!" Catching Sirius' look, he rolled his eyes and grinned slightly. "Okay, like a brother you actually like, _unlike_ Regulus. But that's beside the point. I just don't think it would have bothered him that much. I mean, we didn't even need to tell him – he already knew, remember?" Sirius nodded, and frowned, tapping his chin thoughtfully. While Remus admired the genius-type pose, Sirius' brain was actually whirring into overtime.

"Yeah!" he exclaimed suddenly. Remus raised an eyebrow and gave him A Look. Sirius caught it and grinned. "Ac-tually, Mr. Moony, I have had a--" He paused, searching for the word. Remus coughed suddenly, and Sirius beamed. "Yeah, I've had an epiphany! A realization, if you will. Moony, we didn't even know until god only knows what time this morning. How the fuck did he already know?!" Remus blinked – this thought having not actually occurred to him. Frowning, he shrugged dismissively. "Well, its like he said, it was obvious… But I see your point. It really wasn't that obvious… So how would he have known? Unless- Oh, oh shit. Sirius, was he actually asleep? When you came into the Shack, was he sleeping?!" Sirius stared, bewildered.

"How the bloody fuck should I know!" His voice was growing louder, more agitated, as his subconscious picked up what Remus was hinting at. "I didn't check, did I?! I wanted, I needed to see you – James bloody Potter's sleeping habits was the last thing on my mind!" Remus closed his eyes and pressed a hand to his head as though in pain.

"Sirius, you, you… He was awake! He must have been! That's the only way to explain how he knew!" Sirius thought it over, pondered about it, and then came to A Decision.

"Okay. So he heard us confess our love for one another. But that's a bad thing, why, exactly? I mean, he was still fine with it, and really, I don't think he would have buggered off to god knows where, just to give us "space", y'know?" Remus nodded, and was about to admit total and complete defeat, when a horrible thought struck him with all the force of Hagrid wielding a sledgehammer confronted by a bunch of dragon-slayers.

"Oh, fuck." Sirius gaped at his boyfriend – Remus **never** swore. (Well, mostly never anyway). Remus stared back, eyes suddenly full of fear. "Sirius… We didn't just confess our feeling though, did we? Think about it… What else did we talk about, what else did we mention?" Sirius thought back, wandering aimlessly down memory lane, until he struck gold.

"OH, GODDAMN IT! Remmy, you don't think he-" Sirius broke off and Remus interjected smoothly.

"-Think he went looking for it? Yes, actually, I do. Because our friend James is courageous to the point of idiocy. And you know as well as I that a mirror hidden in a secret room- Oh. So _that's_ why he was in the library… He must've used the blank-spots… Cross referenced them with mentions of the other common rooms, and secret passageways… He mapped it! He mapped the Mirror-Room!" To say Sirius was shocked would be like saying Dumbledore is slightly cheerful – and that man was outrageously, deliriously happy at _funerals_ for Merlin's sake… "Rem! He's, he's gone after it! Alone!" The two marauders looked at each other, and without saying a word, bolted for the door.

When they reached the common room, they were met with a simply astonishing sight. James tumbled in through the portrait – straight into the arms of one Lily Evans. She took one look at him, crying and shivering and as pale as death, and used her Head Girl Stare to banish them all to bed. Sirius and Remus raised eyebrows, shrugged, and lingered hidden in the stairwell – Just In Case.

"James. James! Potter!" Her voice was soft, like an angels lullaby on his tortured ears. He turned his head towards her, his eyes unfocused and dim without his glasses. He peered through the mist and the muggy fog stifling his brain, into green eyes, green as the emeralds his mother used to wear when he was small. Then the connection was made, and he made an effort to sit up. "E…Evans?" he stammered. "Is…Is that, Lily? Lily Evans?" His voice was so unbearably, heart-wrenchingly desperate that Lily felt tears pricking her eyes. "Yes, James, it's me, it's me." He just looked at her, as though not quite believing what he saw or heard. "A…Are you… Is that you, Lily? Is that Lily Evans?" His mournful voice asked again, and again, and every time Lily answered, "Yes, it's me! James, I'm here!" But he just looked right through her, as though she were a ghost, his voice whimpering on, and on, "Lily? Is that Lily? Where's Lily? Is that you, Evans? Lily Evans?"

Lily was crying now, the tears streaming down her face as she gently pried herself away from his reaching arms, and backed away slowly, one hand clasped over her mouth, as though to hold in the screams. "James! James, what ha…happened, I… What's wrong with you! I'm here! Goddamn it, _I'm here!_ He opened his mouth, but his lips had scarcely begun to form her name, when she slapped him. Hard. The smack echoed through the room, unnaturally loud, mixed in with Lily's sobs, and James' shallow, unsteady breathing. He moved his head to look at her, his movements slow, as though he were drowning in treacle. "Hello Lily. Have… Have you come to look after me now?"

His voice was soft, and mournful, like a lost toddler. Lily's heart shattered. "Of course, James. Come here." She sat down next to him, pulling his head to rest on her lap. He curled up, and lay still, his breathing evening out as she stroked his hair. After a few comforting moments of silence, it had to be asked. "James… What happened to you? Was… was it the Slytherins?" James snorted softly, and chuckled, the sound forced, as though it caused him pain. "Nah. A bunch of lousy snakes couldn't do this to me… No, Lily, it was The Mirror…" Lily blinked, and then frowned. Angrily.

"James Potter, this is not the time for mucking about! I… I'm worried about you." That admission had cost her pride – but it was worth it to see the look of sudden hope in his eyes as he rolled over onto his back to face her. "Really? You… Worry about me?" His face melted into a smile. "Y'know, I used to dream that you'd worry about me. Care about me. I used… I wanted to… I wanted you to love me, cos, I know I'm a prat, but I do love you, you know. I really, really do. And, I swear, I'm not kidding. I'd never lie to you, Lily. You're special to me, my angel, and I couldn't bear it if… I just… I don't want you to die, Lily! I couldn't bear to live without you!" He rolled away from her again, and she stared down at him, shocked.

"James, I… I never thought you meant it, you know. I thought you were taking the mickey. I… I'm sorry. For rejecting you. And for quite possibly breaking your heart. But, listen to me, James. I'm not gonna die, am I? I've got years left, maybe hundreds! What on earth made you thought I was going to die?!" She shook her head fondly, but Remus and Sirius just looked at each other, knowing looks plastered over worried frowns. "Maybe we should leave them to it?" mouthed Remus, and Sirius nodded. Sneaking away, they left the thoroughly confused Lily to puzzle out the Riddle of the Mirror as best as she humanly could.

Thankfully, James himself decided to provide some answers. "It's my fault. I was looking for it. It hurt Remus, and Sirius, and I love them, y'know? If I didn't have them… Well, I dunno what I'd do, or who I'd be. I need them. They're my guys. Anyway. It hurt them, and no one hurts my friends. No one. So I went looking for it. I thought, I thought I could destroy it. Protect them, protect everyone. I thought I could be a hero, Lily. I thought I could… But as it turns out, I'm just not strong enough. Personally though, I don't think the armies of Light and Dark _combined_ could have defeated this Monster-Under-the-Bed though, so… Well, I guess it can't be helped. But I tracked it down, and I found it. It's in the West Wing, past- anyway. I found it. And I saw it, and, Lily, it saw me. This great sheet of glass, hiding in its walls of stone. The Mirror. It says its name, in runes around the edge. They're old runes though, cursed, I think. Only purebloods can read them. So there I am, looking at this freakin' mirror, and then… Well, one moment I'm outside looking in, then… I couldn't move… I couldn't see, I couldn't think, and then… He took my place! He was standing, in the real world, and he was laughing, and I… I was trapped inside! I… It was horrid. He kept laughing, and saying stuff in my voice, and then… I dunno, I think I saw Sirius. And Remus. Turning away, sneering, leaving, going Dark. And then… There was you. You… You tore out my heart and stamped on it. The blood was everywhere… And I, I was left, alone, alone in this mirror, for so long… It felt like years were passing. Years, and years, and the turn of the century, gone. And I felt so old, and so tired, and I thought… I thought for sure I'd lived my life away, rotting in between sheets of cursed glass, as He lived my life away, squandered it, broke it, broke me. And no one cared. I wasn't missed. Who'd miss me, anyway?"

James let out a long, rattling sigh. "Anyway. Just as I was about to fall asleep – it seems impossible, doesn't it, centuries of not sleeping – but that's how it felt. Anyway, I was about to drift off, when… Well, I heard, I heard you. Screaming at me as normal, telling me to grow up. And I thought, yeah, I think I've done that. But what good is it – I'm basically dead anyway. And then, something, drifted, into my head. I could see you. But it wasn't you. It was your eyes. In my face. Your eyes, in my face. It was us. It was our son. I saw what could have been, and I… I cried. I cried, and I screamed, and… It let me go. I don't know why, or how. But I found myself sprawled on the stone floor, blood everywhere, but not a wound to be found, my heart racing like a rabbits. But I was awake. I was awake, and I was still here, and there's still time. I've got my chance again, Lily. I turned away from that Mirror, that Mirror of Nightmares, and I ran. All the way here. Because if I've got another chance at life, if I get to give it another go, I'd really, really, like to spend it with you."

His eyes were drifting closed, the edges of sleep just beginning to drift closer, the fog of dreams permeating his mind, turning everything murky white and sky blue. The last thing James heard before letting sleep claim him was her voice, her soft voice whispering an answer.

"Okay."

**Author's Note:**

Eremophobia – A fear of loneliness.

Okay, so a few points were raised about the last chapter, and I think now is the time to clear them up…

Why did James think Remus would have killed Sirius? Well, James thought Remus would kill Sirius because, to be perfectly honest, James IS a pureblood wizard. And sure, he still loves Remus, and knows he's a lovely, calm, caring person, deep down... But he still knows Remus is a werewolf, and there's still that slight spark of realization that Remus does actually turn into a bloodthirsty monster once a month. He reacted on instinct.

Why did Remus nearly attack Sirius even though it was morning and the full moon hadn't risen yet? Maybe I didn't explain it clearly enough, but it was the scent of blood that Remus reacted strongly to. As it is close to the full moon, the wolf is edgy and kind of... close to the surface. So it reacted violently to the scent that it identifies as food. Then, when Remus has written the letter, he's so focused on his personal feelings, and he's so anxious and worried for Sirius that the wolf doesn't really get a look in (so he's back to the Remus we know and love). Then the reason he's not sitting by Sirius' side – he's gone off to transform. Alone. But that'll come later...

Anyway, if you have any questions or suggestions review and tell me okay? Next chapter: Lily finds the mirror!


	4. Samhainophobia

**Disclaimer:** Characters owned by J K Rowling, obviously. The Mirror, imagined/owned by myself.

**Summary:** For everything in this universe, there is an opposite. Yin and Yang, Fire and Water, Light and Dark. So, for the Mirror of Erised, that shows you the deepest and most desperate desires of your heart, surely there must be an opposite? Beware, for when you look into the Mirror of Cosmaruri, you will see the darkest, most terrible nightmares – you will see whatever you fear the most.

**WARNING!** This story will contain SLASH, as in two blokes, in love. You have been warned.

**The Mirror of Cosmaruri**

**Samhainophobia**

_It was dark, completely dark; black as pitch, and deathly cold in the chamber. He could hear bitter northern winds shrieking all around him, blowing chips of stone and droplets of blood into his face. It was so damn __**cold**__, and he could feel his fingers and toes going numb as he staggered over the uneven stone floor, towards the mirror. It was shining, glowing, emitting a harsh, icy glare that seemed to watch him from across the room, calling him forwards. Inside his mind, James was shrieking, yelling, desperately trying to warn himself, to stop himself from making the inevitable mistake. It was too late. He reached forwards, and the tips of his fingers melted into the icy glass, sending out a shockwave of liquidized glass, like ripples in a murky pond. He tore himself away, stumbling backwards, staring at his hands in shock, as the icy liquid of the Mirror of Fear spread across his skin, freezing his limbs, chilling his very soul. He gasped in pain as the Mirror spread over his hands, his arms, torso, chest and neck, spreading up to his face. James screamed, and screamed, until the Mirror tumbled into his open mouth, spilling inside of him, freezing his blood, seizing his heart in an icy fist of iron. His eyes rolled up into his head, and James Potter fell backwards, falling and falling and falling until he hit the floor, and shattered, like a mirror shattering into a million pieces of glass, shining like teardrops, like, like- James? James! _"James!"

James' eyes snapped open, meeting the worried emerald stare of one Lily Evans – upon whose lap he appeared to have been sleeping. James stared up at her blankly for a couple of seconds, his eyes still wide and terrified, trapped in the aftershock of his nightmare. He shivered, wiping cold sweat from his face, his breathing as hard and fast as though he'd just run a marathon round the Black Lake. Twice.

A gentle touch to his head made him jump, and tense, his arms flailing slightly, his eyes darting sightlessly from side to side, stinging as he stared fearfully up through the murky veil of sweat and tears. "Shh, shh… It's okay, James, it's only me…" Lily's soft voice brought him spiraling back to earth, and he lay still, making a conscious effort to calm down as she stroked his hair, whispering sweet reassurances as he swam slowly back to reality. His eyes drifted closed once more, the soft movement of her hands, her fingers running through his untamable hair, brushing away the cobwebs of sleep, banishing all memories of the icy terror of his nightmare.

"W…What happened?" His voice sounded weak and fearful, and he blushed, looking determinedly towards the floor as he sat up slowly. He flinched slightly as her slender hand rested lightly on his arm. It was strange, how such an innocent touch, as gentle and warm as a butterfly's kiss in springtime, could make him feel so safe, so reassured. Her voice was so warm, somehow melodic and sympathetic as she murmured, "Nothing that would make me think any less of you. James… James, it's okay, it's okay to be scared. Honestly, it's okay. I… I'm scared too you know. But… Somehow… I'm sitting here with you, and… And I know. I know that everything will be okay. Because it's **you** that's here with me."

James glanced sideways, and felt his face flush even darker as he met her earnest gaze, her bashful smile sending shivers down his spine. Unable to look away, James held her gaze, her expression unreadable. He would look back on that moment again and again in the years to come; eventually deciding it was equally the most blissful and most torturous experience of his life, as he sat there, un-moving, her face not more than a hand-span's distance from his. He could see her eyelashes, long and dark, sweeping elegantly over her pink blush-stained cheeks. And there, dotted over her high, delicate cheekbones, a scattering of freckles, sun's kisses staining her skin. He stared, unblinking, memorizing the fall of her hair, shining and red, like fairy-spun silk, tumbling over her slender shoulders, the soft feel of her cheeks, like velvet, under his Quidditch-calloused fingers. He sat there, drinking in the sight of her eyes, wide and green as grass, alight with summer sunshine, the soft swan's curve of her pale neck, the delicate brush of her fingertips against his skin. James would never, ever, forget the feel of his heart thumping in his chest, hard enough to burst, as he leant forwards slowly, watching her eyes fall shut, that exquisite shade of green closed off from the world, as he leant forwards, and gently, ever so gently, touched his lips to hers. James would never, ever forget that moment – for how could anyone forget a moment of perfection?

The sun had risen once more, sun sparkling over glistening white snow, icicles glowing like fairy-lights. The Wizarding Castle looked like something out of a fairy-story, encased in a giant glass snow-globe, filled with glitter and clasped lovingly in a toddler's fist. The surface of the Black Lake was perfectly blue and clear, the reflection of the winter sky simmering over the ice, as smooth and perfect as a sheet of polished glass. Lily left the last of her doubts behind at the edge of the lake, as James took her hand in his warm, strong grasp, and spun her out over the lake, her shoes perfectly transfigured into a beautiful pair of skates, the silver blades flashing like white-hot fire in the sunlight. She laughed, giddy with delight, as they skated together, arm in arm, gliding freely over the ice. She grinned, closing her eyes, trusting him to guide her, one arm stretched out, her hair streaming out behind her like a scarlet ribbon. James couldn't help but laugh aloud in sheer delight, the feel of her gloved hand resting in his, like it belonged there, filling him with pure and simple joy.

Eventually, they swirled to a stop, and flopped down on a hastily conjured rug under a willow tree at the edge of the lake. Leaning back against the tree trunk, James smiled fondly down at Lily, who was sitting curled up against him, her head resting lazily on his shoulder, as though they'd been like this forever. Sighing peaceably, James couldn't help but think… _If… If I'd never seen that mirror… Well, I'd never have ended up here. _Tentatively, he reached out, and brushed a stray lock of hair from her face. Lily smiled up at him, her eyes filled with a fierce kind of joy – and then he knew for sure. "Lily…" He whispered, brushing his lips over hers once more. "Lily, I… I wanted to tell you… It was worth it. So, completely worth it. I… I would suffer those thousands of years of nightmares, all over again, just for the chance to live this dream." Lily laughed softly, pulling him into a tight hug, nuzzling her face against his neck. She inhaled deeply, and he felt her shudder slightly, sighing deeply.

She pulled back, and James couldn't help the spark of fear that rose up suddenly, as he saw a shadow pass over her eyes, like the silhouette of an albatross over a grass covered hill, rippling green and gold in the sun. "L…Lily? Are… Are you okay?" He knew that he sounded panicked, but for once, he just didn't care. This was more important. She, she was far more important. Lily smiled at him, and he noticed with a sickening jolt, that it didn't quite reach her eyes. "I… I'm fine, James." She didn't sound all that convincing. His doubt must have shown on his face, because she sighed, and flopped her head back down to his chest, her eyes fluttering closed as she breathed in time to the beat of his heart. "James… Don't… Don't panic, okay? Let's just, just, sit here for a while. Okay?" She mumbled drowsily, stroking his arm reassuringly. James nodded, and stared out over the sun-streaked Lake, his hand moving absently through her silky hair, his face serene – showing nothing of his inner turmoil.

They sat like that until the royal-blue sky was tinged with streaks of rose pink and tangerine, the stars fading slowly into view, clouds scrolling like banners across the heavens. Lily stirred, and looked up, her emerald-green eyes searching his face, though what she was looking for, James wasn't sure. Evidently, he passed the test, for she settled back into his arms, and hesitantly, began to speak. "James. About last night… I… I knew what you were talking about, you know. I knew you meant the mirror." James could've sworn he could feel his heart stop.

_No._

_No! I… That's not true! She can't, she CAN'T have! I… I won't, won't let her… No… Please, no…_ Finally, James realized, with a bitter sense of irony, he understood what Remus had meant, when he whispered his regret to Sirius, when they had thought they were alone together, in that moonlit shack… He finally realized the pain that Remus must have felt, his heartbroken voice echoing loudly in James' mind. _I… I left you, in the hidden grey room, facing that, that… hellish mirror, and __**alone**__! I… I left you to __that__ ALONE! _Finally, James understood that feeling, that complete sense of bitter helplessness, the absolute guilt. Lily, blissfully oblivious to her beloved's distress, rambled on.

"Look, James. I… I don't want to upset you; I really don't, but… I thought that you should know. It… It was just last year, actually. The night before that awful day, you know, the day of the Defense OWL? The day that…" _That I lost the boy I considered to be my best friend in all the world… "_Well. You know. Anyway, I'd been on Prefect duty, and was patrolling the East Wing, and I, well, I completely forgot, James. I completely and totally forgot that the Left Hand Corridor was out of bounds, and, that dratted Mrs. Norris! Stupid kitten, she ran into the corridor, and like the idiot that I am, I ran straight after her. Of course, I soon remembered about the corridor being off limits, but… Well, what if it was dangerous? I… I didn't want to leave her; she's only a baby kitten! And I'm willing to bet my wand that she's Filch's only friend. So… So I followed her. But, I got lost. I couldn't remember which door I'd come in through, a…and it was really dark, and I didn't have the sense to cast a Lumos. I guess that just proves I'm not the amazing witch that everyone thinks I am. I'm just a muggleborn." _I'm just a Mudblood really. One step up from a squib. Couldn't even cast a Lumos._

"Hey!" James interjected with a frown. "Don't you EVER say that again, dyou hear me?! Being a muggleborn has nothing to do with it! I don't care what Malfoy, and Snape think, the prejudiced gits; I don't care what they say! None of it's true! You are an **amazing** witch! You're so talented, and… Lily, I… I've felt it. The power of the Mirror. It drains you of all rational thought, feeds on your darkest nightmares. It was draining your soul, like a great big glass Dementor – it's no wonder you forgot to cast a Lumos! For Merlin's sake Lily! I-" He was cut off by a sudden and not unwelcome pressure on his lips. James kissed her back softly, once he had got over the shock of being kissed so spontaneously by the woman of his dreams, smiling slightly against her rose-petal lips. However, the solemnity of the situation all too soon came flooding back, and he pulled back regretfully. "Lily. Lily, I… I just want you to know – I've socialized with possibly every British Pureblood family out there – and not one of the witches could hold a candle to you. Okay?"

_Okay, James. Okay. But… Well, to be honest, you're biased. But I'll let that go. For now._

"Okay. Do…Do you want me to keep going? With the story, I mean." At a slight nod from James, she cleared her throat, and continued. "So, I was running through the passageway, and it was black as night, even though it was midsummer, and the corridors outside were still filled with dusky twilight. They had only just lit the candles… Anyway, I kept going, but there were some steps that I didn't see, so I fell…"

_God. It was awful. Like the world had just gone from under my feet, and I was falling through the bottomless chasms of hell._

James felt her shiver at the memory, and drew her closer, pressing a kiss into her fiery hair. "I was falling, through empty space, darkness and cobwebs… I couldn't hear anything but my own screams, and the sound of the Earth falling away. And then-"

_A crunch of splintering bones, as my body met unforgiving stone. I could taste blood, and all I could see were white spots, fizzling across my vision. I thought I was dead._

"I landed. In… In that room. A…And it was so cold! You know, you've felt it too."

_That bitter tang of icy death, that seemed to freeze the very marrow of your bones. It was so dark, so cold… I thought it was hell._

"And then I saw it. Looming out of the shadows like a beast rearing back, ready to- Ready to… It was almost like it had been waiting for me, trapping me in the darkness, hunting me…"

_I… I was afraid. _

"I didn't know what to do. I… I couldn't breathe, couldn't think. It was like I had surrendered all control, without even being given the chance to put up a fight. So I lay there, as helpless as a newborn baby. It was like I forgot how to live, how to be human. My fight or flight instinct was completely gone. I… It was like being **dead**, Jamie. And of course, that isn't the worst, not by a long shot. Because then, like it had drained my spirit, lapped it up like a cat given milk, the Mirror came alive. And… And I saw… Me."

_But, it wasn't me. It was me grown up. My hair was longer, darker, like it had been tainted by a world at war. Because that's what I saw. Smoking ruins, files of refugees fleeing our country. Fleeing the man with the eyes the __colour__ of hell. And my eyes were glazed and tired, my face marred with frown-lines. I didn't even have dimples anymore. But… But there you were, James. You, carrying our son. Our newborn son. And you made me smile. You brought life to my deadened gaze. And I was happy. I laughed, and the people around me screamed as they died. I didn't even notice. Didn't even flinch. Didn't even seem to care._

"I saw me, us, our newborn son. Together, in the midst of the greatest, most terrible war our kind has ever seen. People were DYING, James. And we stood by, stood by and did nothing. And… And then…"

_Then, the blackened skies tore open, and the rain began to fall. We ran, ran and hid. We thought we were safe from him. We thought we could keep him safe from harm… But… Betrayed by a rat, sold to the devil himself… I heard you scream as you died, trying to save us, trying to fight him off. I… I held our son and screamed as my heart died with you. I did nothing but scream in fear as my world exploded in a torrent of demonic laughter, and as downpour of fire, falling from the skies. And He was there, trying to kill my son! My SON! I… I wanted to protect him. I would have given anything to protect him. I didn't want the last thing I saw to be His face, ghastly and terrible, leering like a Halloween pumpkin… So I looked down, I looked at my son. The Avada Kedavra hit me like the sound of a speeding train and-_

"James… Did you know that Death is the same colour as our son's eyes?"

**Author's Note:**

Samhainophobia – A fear of Halloween.

Okay, I am so, so sorry for leaving this story for so long! I got completely distracted by my other Harry Potter story, Rogue. Anyway, I'll try to update more regularly from now on! I hope this chapter was worth the wait. Maybe review and let me know?

And yes, the nightmare was very much inspired by that scene in the matrix… I couldn't resist…

Next Chapter: Regulus meets the Mirror of Nightmares – though he follows a drastically different path to get there…


	5. Athazagoraphobia

**Disclaimer:** Characters owned by J K Rowling, obviously. The Mirror, imagined/owned by myself.

**Summary:** For everything in this universe, there is an opposite. Yin and Yang, Fire and Water, Light and Dark. So, for the Mirror of Erised, that shows you the deepest and most desperate desires of your heart, surely there must be an opposite? Beware, for when you look into the Mirror of Cosmaruri, you will see the darkest, most terrible nightmares – you will see whatever you fear the most.

**WARNING!** This story will contain SLASH, as in two blokes, in love. You have been warned.

**The Mirror of Cosmaruri**

**Athazagoraphobia**

"And then she tells me that our son, our SON, will have EYES THE COLOUR OF DEATH!" James Potter fell silent, and sat down heavily on his four poster bed as though all the strength had drained out of him. He sighed, head in trembling hands, hiding suspiciously shiny eyes from the view of his two best friends. Sirius glanced over at Remus, and could see his own shock and surprise mirrored in the werewolf's gaze. There was a pause, an awkward moment of silence, where Remus and Sirius hardly dared breathe. Eventually, Remus stood up, moving almost silently. He gave Sirius a quick hug, murmuring just loud enough for his boyfriend's canine-enhanced ears to hear the slight whisper of encouragement.

"Sirius – he needs you. A brother. Just… Go with your instincts, and you'll find the words. Okay?" He embraced Sirius gently, a quick affectionate squeeze, tears burning in his eyes. Sirius inhaled deeply, the wild, woodsy scent of his soul-mate calming him instantly. Then, he was alone, hovering nervously by James' bed. He cleared his throat slightly, and James looked up. His eyes were swollen and red, tears dripping from the end of his nose, smudging across his glasses. His bottom lip was quivering like that of a terrified child; but his gaze was unblinking and strong. Sirius reached out a tentative hand, and in an instant, he knew what to say.

"Budge over then, Jim. I'm shattered." James grinned half-heartedly, the smile not quite reaching his eyes. With a sigh of agreement, he flopped back onto his bead, Sirius plopping down next to him. They both reached up, hands behind their heads, knees slightly bent, gazing at the frayed canopy. James let out another sigh, this one soul-deep, his breath hitching. They lay there in silence, Sirius counting the frayed golden stitched in the red velvet overhead. His vision was just beginning to blur, when James mumbled something indecipherable. Sirius answered in a similar fashion, with a confused, dog-like whine. James smiled softly. "I _said_, I'm on forty seven, mutt." Sirius laughed; a cross between a puppy's bark and a bicycle pump.

"Fifty three! Bite me, antler-boy!" James laughed too, and while there was a slightly desperate edge to it, it was definitely a laugh. Smiling, Sirius rolled onto his side, propped up on an elbow, chin on his hand. The other hand trailed his wand lazily through the air, conjuring sparkles of light, violet, crimson and gold. James lay there for a few moments, his breathing gradually slowing, evening out. He could hear Sirius whistling some random tune by his latest Muggle obsession, and there was an icy draught playing with his hair. He frowned slightly, before rolling over to face his friend, his brother, eyes snapping open.

Sirius let out one last mournful whistle, his wand dropping soundlessly to the bedspread. He cleared his throat and dropped his eyes to his hand, picking at the duvet, unable to hold James' gaze as he began to speak. "So… S…So how… Are you feeling okay? I mean, obviously you aren't, but… Look, James, I… It isn't gonna happen you know. Not the way she saw it. I… I won't let that happen, not to you, because you're a good man, a good friend! You're brave, and loyal and honest and true, and… I won't let it end the way she saw it, I won't-"

"How would you have it end, then?" James interrupted, sitting up cross legged on the bed. Sirius sat up too, spluttering in confusion. James took off his glasses, massaging his eyes tiredly with the heels of his hands. He continued speaking, his voice suddenly far too loud, far too heavy in the room. "How would you have it end, Sirius? Me, dying an old, old, man, older than Dumbledore? So old and deranged that I can't even piss by myself? Surrounded by my friends and my family?" He paused, and Sirius gaped at him, aghast. He had never heard James speak with such bitterness. "We run around thinking we're immortal. Laughing in the face of death because we think we're invincible, like no one could ever touch us. But… Okay. So we might surpass the danger. We might actually survive. But what happens then? Would you have me end up old and alone, sitting around and waiting to die? Waiting to join my darling wife. My wife, or my kids, or… Or my friends. Would you have me die alone, waiting to join everyone that died before me? I… I couldn't do that, Sirius. I couldn't watch you all die, I couldn't… I can't grow old without you!"

Sirius blinked. And then he understood. "Oh James. You… The reason you're so upset… You think… It would be… better?" James let out a groan of frustration, and both boys flopped back onto their backs. "I just think that… Well… What's so bad about it? To die fighting, defending everything you love? Isn't that how you'd want to die? In the place of someone you love?" Sirius frowned. James continued, the words spilling out, causing goosebumps to break out across the back of Sirius' neck, goosebumps that had nothing to do with the wintry cold. "Think about it, Sirius. Imagine… Remus. If… If Remus, YOUR Remus was in danger, if he was going to DIE… Wouldn't you do it instead? Wouldn't you sacrifice yourself for him? Or… Or for me? Or even Reg-"

"No." The word was cold and icy in his mouth. It tasted like dirt and tears. Sirius stood up, his face crumpled oddly, as though he had been smashed and glued back together. "James. You… You don't understand. You're… I'm not you, James! I can see it y'know. You, dying in a… a blaze of glory, fighting 'til the end. Ever the Gryffindor. But… I'm not like that. I… You… You can't expect me to… YOU CAN'T ASK THIS OF ME!" Sirius leapt to his feet, and stormed from the room, grey eyes glinting with desperation and fear.

James blinked at the slowly closing door, and sighed. "So… Y'think this is a sign, Jamie-boy? A sign of things to come? 'Cos here you are, alone again. You ran out on the love of your life, and now your best mate has run out on you." He flopped one arm over his face, and soon all that could be heard was the sound of his breathing, deep and uneven, as James tossed and turned, ensnared in fitful sleep.

Sirius couldn't stop running. He stumbled through the Gryffindor Tower, through the Portrait Hole, down the main staircase, and across the lawn. Eventually, he staggered into the cobble-stoned courtyard, and flopped down on a snow-covered stone bench, ignoring the instant freezing wetness that seeped through the seat of his trousers. He leant bonelessly against the archway, his head bowed. His breathing was heavy and ragged, and he could hardly think past the cold that was crushing his chest, and the burning stitch in his side. All he could see was James' earnest, tearstained face, asking again and again, _If Remus, YOUR Remus was in danger, if he was going to DIE… Wouldn't you do it instead? Wouldn't you sacrifice yourself for him? Or… Or for me? Would you die for me? Would you sacrifice yourself for me? Would you die for me, for him, would I? Would I die for him? For Remus? For Peter? For my friends? Or… For… For… __**Regulus.**_

He had scarcely just thought of his brother, when a familiar voice broke through his desperate thoughts. "Well well well. Look what we have here! A big, brave Lion. Without his pride. Finally seen through you, have they, _brother?_" Sirius' head snapped up, and he glared at his younger brother. "Regulus." He spat, a mockery of politeness. Outwardly, he was the picture of hostility. Inside, he was shaking. The resemblance was uncanny. When Sirius had looked into the Mirror… He had seen himself, grown up and Dark. His eyes had been hard and cold, cruel and unforgiving as steel. The very same eyes as the ones that presently resided in his baby brother's face. _Dear Merlin, _Sirius thought, shocked to the core. _What… What have I let him become?!_ Some of his pain must have shown on his face, because Regulus took a step backwards, his previously sneering face a blank mask, as white and emotionless as the frozen lake spread across the world behind him.

"Something wrong, brother dearest?" Sneered the youngest son of Orion and Walburga Black. Sirius growled and leapt to his feet, leaving all previous lethargy behind him in the snow. Regulus smirked, his eyes cold and calculating. "I'll take that as a yes, shall I? What's wrong? Nothing too serious I hope. Wait, don't tell me… Maybe your stupid Blood Traitor friend went and fell off his broomstick, and did the world a favour? Or… Or maybe its something to do with your precious little werewolf? Tell me, has it finally gone rabid? Or maybe he got you too, maybe you're a monster t-"

Sirius couldn't help it. That poisonous mouth, looking so much like his own, spewing filth, hateful lies, about the man he loved – It was too much. He felt his resolve snap, and his fist collided with Regulus' perfect square jaw, sending him sprawling onto his backside in the snow. Regulus instantly scrambled to his feet, flushing with shock, and injured pride. His eyes weren't cold anymore, but burning, boiling, wrathful anger. "DON'T YOU TOUCH ME, DON'T YOU DARE TOUCH ME, WITH YOUR FILTHY, TREACHEROUS HANDS!"

Sirius took a step backwards, the words raining over him like burning ashes over Pompeii. He cleared his throat, eyeing Regulus' already purpling jaw guiltily. "Reggie, I-"

"DON'T call me that! You haven't got the right! You don't deserve the right to speak my name, filthy, miserable traitor! You're pathetic, resorting to Muggle violence! You're as bad as a Mudblood-"

"Shut up! Don't call them that! Some of the Muggle Borns are twice the wizard you'll ever be! Just because they're different to you, just because you don't understand-"

"How dare you speak to me that way! How dare you speak favourably of those inferior FILTH! How can you even bear to look at them? To be near them? They STINK of their dirty blood, they couldn't be decent wizards if their miserable little lives depended on it, and you know as well as I that-"

Here, Sirius could bear it no longer. He moved forwards again, clapping slowly, his face flushed with righteous anger. Regulus fell silent, frowning, confused. "Congratulations, Reggie!" Sirius spat, sounding just as hateful as Regulus a moment before. "Congratulations, brother. Congratulations, LORD BLACK. Mother and Father must be SO PROUD of you! Spouting off their little speeches – tell me, are they easy to remember, or do you have to rehearse?!" Regulus snarled, and raised his wand, pressing it into the soft hollow beneath Sirius' throat, backing him into the damp stone wall.

"You'd better watch your tongue, brother. It is not wise to speak ill of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. There are some who would be most… displeased to hear such little speeches, and then… Then, Sirius, even you're little pet wolf won't be able to save you!" Sirius snarled, but didn't move. An angry Regulus was a dangerous one. And… These days, who knows? Maybe his brother would actually slit his throat, and leave him to die. Regulus certainly hated him enough.

Sirius didn't let his uncertainty filter through to his face, however. He laughed recklessly, the laughter erupting into a roar of anger before it even left his throat. "He's not my pet! He's my- My friend. N…Not that you'd understand anything about that-" Regulus jabbed his wand further into Sirius' throat, making him cough and fall silent. His eyes were glinting, silver and curious.

"Your… friend? Really. Is that so? Tell me, Sirius. Do you think that I'm stupid?! Do you think, that after fifteen MISERABLE years on this planet, that it is even slightly possible that I do actually possess even the slightest amount of common sense? Because I'm not stupid. In fact, I'd say I was a damn sight less stupid than YOU, brother. It's so obvious. SO obvious. But I had no proof, see. And, I don't think you even knew. But… He's your… friend? You didn't sound too sure. Do you want to change your answer, Sirius?" Sirius was suddenly and painfully aware of the ice cold water seeping through the back of his robes, and the cold winter sunshine glaring and bright, forming an almost perfect halo around his brother. He glanced away, unable to hold his brother's searching gaze.

"I… I don't have to explain myself to you!" He shoved his brother off him, and stumbled backwards, wand aimed at his brother's still smirking face. Regulus just laughed nastily, and walked forwards slowly, a panther stalking his prey. "Ah… So it was a lie."

Sirius snarled, and leapt forwards, sending both boys smashing to the ground. "IM NOT A LIAR!" He roared, grabbing the front of Regulus' robes, and smashing his head against the ground. Regulus blinked, dazed, but continued to laugh. He laughed, and laughed, until it turned into a hacking cough, and he rolled over, slipping from Sirius' suddenly slack grasp. He coughed and coughed, unaware of a tentative hand on his back, his brother's suddenly panicky voice at his ear. "Reggie? Reggie, are… Reggie?!" Regulus snarled and spat blood onto the cobblestones, thick and ruby red, garish in the daylight. He staggered to his feet, one hand pressed to his chest, the other holding his wand. His hand was shaking violently, but his aim stayed true. Sirius stood very still, hands raised in a mockery of a surrender. "Regulus, I think you should go to the Hospital Wing, you need-"

"SHUT UP!" Regulus even managed to look intimidating with strings of bloody saliva hanging from his mouth. "WHO ARE YOU TO TELL ME WHAT I NEED?! You're the one that's sick!" Sirius went white with anger, and involuntarily clenched his fists. He turned away, and started towards the castle – but Regulus wasn't finished yet. The curse that took him by surprise wasn't one he'd heard of before; probably another sick Slytherin invention. It sent him sprawling across stone and grass, until his was slammed up against the castle wall, his spine popping, and the still semi-healed wound on his shoulder splitting open in a burst of pain. Regulus stumbled over, his breathing shallow and wet, like his was underwater. He spat a mouthful of blood at Sirius' feet, and grinned at him, his teeth and gums stained scarlet. "Well. You know, I think someone's trying to hide something… You really shouldn't bother, Sirius. I can read you like a book. You never could hide anything from me. So don't even try." He laughed, eyes shining crazily, reminding Sirius of his mother. Regulus leaned closer, and as his brother whispered in his ear, Sirius could almost smell it, the smell of Grimmauld. Dark magic and blood. Cobwebs, mustiness. Secrets in dark corners. "Besides, this will hurt far less, if you don't fight it. Don't fight it, Sirius. Trust me, and don't fight it." Sirius opened his mouth to protest, but before he could even make a sound, Regulus had raised his wand.

The curse was silent, and faster than lighting. Sirius couldn't breathe, couldn't see, the world was spinning and bright, like he was flying weightless, above the clouds. Then they started. His memories were spinning around him, a bright circus of lights and sound. He could hear snatches of voices on the wind - his mother, shrieking, the sound of James cheering during Quidditch practice... Baby Regulus, laughing at nothing, calling for his older brother... Remus… The sound of Remus' breathing as he slept… Something deep inside of Sirius gave a pang of longing, and somewhere far away he could hear Regulus laughing. "Just friends, was it brother?!"

_Yeah. Just friends. I don't know who you think I am… There's no way you could lie to me – to ME! I'm your brother! I know you!_

_I…_

_I know that when you're happy, your smile lights up the room. _

_And… that when you laugh, its impossible for me not to join in. _

_And when you're truly, utterly furious you turn an enviable shade of scarlet, and your hands start shaking... _

_I know that when you're afraid your face goes white, and you blink too fast. _

_I know that you act like you're never embarrassed… but if you're ashamed you always laugh just slightly too loud, and your smile is just that bit too bright. _

_I know that when you t__hink of home, your eyes go dark, and you bite your lip._

_I know that you never lie. Sure, you twist the truth a bit… But never LIE. Which is why I could tell, why I could see right through you. Because you wouldn't look me in the eye. Your voice sounded wrong, sort of thin, like you were inwardly cursing yourself. Like you didn't want to be speaking at all. _

_Brother, I know you. I knew you were hiding something from me, but… _

_I don't know why._

_Legilimens. _

The echo of the spell reverberated around Sirius head, making him close his eyes in pain, as his little brother fell into his memories, still chuckling. And there he was, straightening up, fixing Sirius with an omniscient stare. "Did you like my little spell, brother? Any fool can be a Legilimens, but it takes real skill to find the right memory first. I knew you were hiding something from me… And I figured it out, almost instantly. I'm not stupid, you know. But… I can't help but wonder… Why can't you look at me? Why, why do I make your face go white, like you've seem a Grim laughing from behind my eyes? What do see when you look at me, Sirius? What is that you're afraid of?"

Sirius shivered, panic rising as he noticed their surroundings. _Calm down, Sirius! It's just your mind, just the inside of your own head. Nothing can hurt you here, it can't reach you here, it can't, it really can't… Can it?_

The walls were fading out of the shadows, tall, grey stone, damp and dark, as though splattered with congealing blood. And there, looming towards him, brought forth from his mind by Regulus' words.

The Mirror. Sirius let out a bloodcurdling scream, and fell to his knees, hands pressed over his ears, eyes scrunched shut. "NO! No, you aren't here, I'm not here, it can't be, can't be… Just my mind, this is just my mind, YOU CAN'T KILL ME HERE! Please, don't kill me here, don't let me die here, don't… Don't… Please…"

Regulus frowned, looking around in confusion and exasperation, as his brother disappeared into some corner of his mind, slipping away, blanketing himself in mist, shielding himself from his memories. "Sirius? Where…?" He didn't even have time to ask the question, before the sky opened up, and Sirius fell through, landing at his feet with a crunch. Regulus let out a yelp of surprise, gaping in shock as memory-Sirius staggered to his feet, calling for his friends. He stumbled around, like a crippled dog, before crumpling to the floor, spitting blood everywhere. "Sirius!" Regulus couldn't quite manage to bite his tongue in time to capture the exclamation of concern as he watched his brother discover the body of the Slytherin, hanging limply from the ceiling. "Sirius…" He placed a hand on his brother's shoulder, and bowed his head, as the Slytherin was buried, with dignity. _Such… such respect. Would… Would you have done the same? If it was a Gryffindor hanging there? _A flicker of shame twisted uncomfortably in the pit of his stomach, but he brushed it aside, concern mounting, as Sirius reached up, and pulled the dustsheet to the floor.

A mirror.

Tall and menacing, radiating evil. Regulus stepped back, licking his lips nervously, watching as Sirius began to moan and cry, clawing at his face, and, and – the pickaxe? "Sirius? What the hell are you doing?! P…Put that down, what are you-!"

Blood, his brother's blood, was spraying across Regulus' face, splattering the mirror with a glaze of red, as though it were ashamed.

"SIRIUS! I… I've had enough now! What is this place? Where are we? Sirius, I'm speaking to you! What memory is this?! What happens here?! Sirius? Sirius!" But his brother wasn't listening, he was laughing hysterically, staring with wild, terrified eyes at his own reflection. "Stop looking at it! SIRIUS, STOP-"

That… That wasn't his brother's reflection.

That was… _That's me! But… But it can't be! I'm just… Just a spectator, I can't… How is that me! How can that be me! I… what is this place?!_

He stepped backwards, transfixed, his eyes unblinking, never leaving the mirror's surface. His mouth fell open in a silent scream of fear, as he saw the surface of the glass ripple, and _change_, and change _him_ into something, into someone else.

Sirius.

His older brother was staring back at him, his eyes full of hatred, full of disgust.

Regulus couldn't breathe. A hellish red-black fog had invaded his mind, making it difficult to think. He didn't hear his brother screaming that he hated him. He didn't hear his brother, his _brother_ telling him that he should never have been born. That Sirius wished he would just die.

He didn't need to.

The image of his brothers hateful eyes branded itself into Regulus' mind like a red hot poker, and all he could do was watch, shivering in horror and fear as his stupid, brave, idiotic, wonderful, Gryffindor brother turned away from it all.

From the Blacks.

From the Slytherin's.

From Regulus.

Leaving the younger Slytherin alone, _so alone_, alone and forgotten, left to grow old, and make mistakes and _die alone_.

Because who could ever replace the gaping wound gouged deep in his heart - where his brother used to be?

**Author's Note:**

Athazagoraphobia – A fear of being forgotten.

Okay, first off: I am **so so so so so so sorry** this took so long! It's been like… months!

Anyway, I hope you liked the chapter – I know it was a bit different, but I was getting tired of the same old "discovered a random room" kind of plotline that seemed to be taking over, and so I decided to have a bit of a change…

Anyway, **reviews would be greatly appreciated!**

Thanks to **Bottlebrush** for constant reviews – it really does mean a lot to know that people appreciate my work.

Next Chapter: The one we've all been waiting for – The Marauders have had enough, and Albus Dumbledore meets the Mirror of Cosmaruri. Who will win this time?


	6. Kakorrhaphiophobia

**Disclaimer:** Characters owned by J K Rowling, obviously. The Mirror, imagined/owned by myself.

**Summary:** For everything in this universe, there is an opposite. Yin and Yang, Fire and Water, Light and Dark. So, for the Mirror of Erised, that shows you the deepest and most desperate desires of your heart, surely there must be an opposite? Beware, for when you look into the Mirror of Cosmaruri, you will see the darkest, most terrible nightmares – you will see whatever you fear the most.

**WARNING!** This story will contain SLASH, as in two blokes, in love. You have been warned.

**The Mirror of Cosmaruri**

**Kakorrhaphiophobia**

"Regulus?"

_There is something hot and wet dribbling over my face. _

"Regulus?"

_It smells like blood._

"Can you hear me?"

_It feels like tears._

"Regulus, it's me, it's Sirius!"

_Sirius… His voice is quavering, unsure and afraid._

"R…Reg?"

_I have never heard him falter, before. _

"Regulus?!"

_My brother._

"Reggie, please wake up… Please!"

_My idiotic, headstrong, Gryffindor brother._

"C'mon, little brother, wake up!"

_I… I don't want to._

"I'm here now, it's me, it's Sirius, I'm here!"

_He is shaking me slightly, delicately, as though I'm made of glass._

"Please Reggie… "

_Shh, Sirius. I'm sleeping…_

"Open your eyes!"

_No. It's too peaceful, here in the dark._

"Oh God, you can yell at me, hit me, hate me – I don't care, just wake up!"

_Can't I just stay here, Sirius? _

"I…"

_Safe, and sleeping._

"Reggie I…"

_In your arms?_

"I couldn't bear it, Regulus! If you don't wake up, I couldn't bear it!"

_Sirius… He is crying?_

"I need you, little brother!"

_I can hear his breath catching in his throat._

"I'm sorry that I left you!"

_I can hear his heartbeat, steady beneath my ear. _

"I'm so sorry that I abandoned you there, please, Reg, please don't punish me more than I have been already!"

_Punish? That's not it. _

"Please, don't leave me!"

_I just couldn't bear it if you left me, again!_

"Ohgod, Reggie."

_I wouldn't survive, Sirius._

"Ohmygod."

_Oh, please, Siri, please. Do not ask me to risk my heart, Sirius. _

"Reggie! Wake UP!"

_I'm not brave enough for that._

"You HAVE to WAKE UP!"

_I'm no Gryffindor._

"Oh fuck, ohmyfuck, ohgod PLEASE, REGGIE!"

_I wish I was a Gryffindor._

"REGULUS!"

_I wish I was like you._

"REGULUS!"

_I wish, oh, I so wish that you really, truly loved me! You sit here, wailing and crying, because you've lost something that you already threw away? The stench of bittersweet irony and heartbreaking hypocrisy is 'most too much to bear. _

"Regulus…"

_Sirius…_

_I wish with all of my heart that you hadn't left. That you loved me, and respected me – that you were proud of me. Mother and Father… They're so proud… So proud that their little baby is so… Evil. But I don't want to be evil. I want to be… I want to be a hero. I want to be one of you Gryffindors, loved and praised. I want to be remembered with honor, after I'm gone. I… I don't mean anything. To anyone. _

_Tears are welling up in my tightly closed eyes, and I can't keep them from escaping._

_I can't help the way my breath catches in a sob._

_I can't help the way I cling to him, my head bowed, weeping like a child._

_And he knows just what I need. His arms tighten around me, and he whispers soft reassurances in my ear, his heartbeat ever-steady, a beating drum._

-----

_RegulusRegulusRegulusRegulusRegulus…_

When Sirius had finally come round, his whole body was shaking, wracked with spasms of phantom pain. Grasping his recently-healed shoulder, he sat bolt upright, gasping great lungfuls of air, and looked around frantically for his baby brother. He gathered Regulus into his arms, and tried desperately in vain to wake him up. Eventually he fell silent, tears dripping down his face, his breathing fast and panicky. Then, he heard it; a soft, gasping sob that sent an arrow of bittersweet hope straight to his heart. He felt Regulus stir, and cling tightly to him, and couldn't for the world prevent wide, shaky smile from spreading across his face. "It's okay now, Reggie." He gasped, gently nuzzling his face in his brother's hair. "It's okay, I've gotcha." Regulus hugged him back, and Sirius could feel tears seeping through his already damp shirt. _If I could stay like this forever… If we could stay here, together, forever… _

Eventually, however, Regulus, sat up, and Sirius' could've sworn that the further he pulled himself away, the harder and colder his face became. The younger Slytherin hauled himself to his feet, and Sirius quickly followed, staggering slightly. "Reg…" He could hear himself pleading, the tears burning in his eyes. _This can't be it. This can't be all we'll ever have. We're brothers! We can fix this! We can! _He must have been speaking aloud, because Regulus shook his head, his face unreadable, dead.

"Sorry, Sirius. It's too late now. We're so different, you and I. Like two side of the same coin. We're not brothers, Sirius. Not in our hearts." Sirius couldn't help the wounded, canine-like sound that escaped his lips, as his heart broke in two. Regulus looked at him, and Sirius glimpsed a flicker of pity in those stone-cold eyes. "I'm sorry, Sirius. I'm sorry, but I'm not like you! I'm not clever, or brave. My ability to hide behind masks of disdain and hatred… It's all I have! And that has to be enough." Sirius reached out, to comfort, to reassure, to tell Regulus that no, this wasn't it, they could figure something out… But Regulus stepped smoothly out of reach, and smiled slightly. "I love you, Sirius. You big, stupid Gryffindor. But in this world, in this life... Love is not enough. Don't forget me, Sirius. Even when it makes your heart bleed to think of me, don't forget that I lived. Okay?" Sirius couldn't, wouldn't speak. Maybe the tears would suffice. He stood silently, and watched. This time, it was his brother who was leaving – and him who was left behind. _Regulus… You're always running... So fast, and so far... I hope that one day, you find whatever it is you're looking for, that you get to where you wants to be... I hope so._

He was still standing there, weeping silently, when Remus found him. "Sirius!" The werewolf embraced him instantly, pulling him into a tight hug. "Sirius, Sirius, don't cry, my love! Please don't cry!" Sirius could only cry harder, hugging Remus back, inhaling his scent, letting his boyfriend's warmth soothe him beyond all words.

"Remus… Remus he's gone! He looked into my head, and saw… He saw the Mirror, and it made him leave! He's not brave like us Gryffindors, Remus! It's taken his hope!" He could feel Remus hand trembling as he stroked his hair, and pulled away slightly, to look up at his friend. "R…Remus?" Surprisingly, Remus' eyes weren't filled with amber sorrow, or pity. Instead, they were glaring, ice-cold gold. Wolves eyes. "Remus! Remus!" He tugged on Remus' robe, and patted his cheek. Remus blinked, and scrunched up his face as though looking at Sirius was costing him a great deal of effort.

"Sorry, Sirius. I'm just… I'm just so furious! How could this HAPPEN?! We're CHILDREN, STUDENTS! We're in a SCHOOL! And to be facing these horrors… It's not safe! Dumbledore HAS to know, he knows EVERYTHING that happens here! What the hell is he THINKING, letting us be hurt like this?! He may be a genius, but if this is a matter of sacrificing the few for the GREATER FUCKING GOOD, then he's going to have some explaining to do!" Sirius grinned slightly, which just added to Remus' anger. "What the fuck are you laughing for?! This is serious! PEOPLE ARE DYING! AND HE'S JUST SITTING THERE, IN HIS IVORY TOWER, WATCHING US SUFFER! I- Sirius. What the hell are you doing?!" Sirius had in fact just planted a kiss on Remus' lips, surprising them both. "People could see you, Sirius!" Sirius shrugged, and grinned.

"I don't care, Moony. The only one I cared about not-knowing knew before US. So I don't care, anymore. I'm not ashamed of you, Moony." His grin widened at the shock and delight written all over Remus' face. He leant closer, and whispered in the werewolf's ear, "Besides, you're damn sexy when you're angry…" Remus couldn't help but laugh.

-----

Albus Dumbledore was angry. Really, truly, rightfully, furious. He had been sitting, puzzling over his chess-board, when his office door burst open, and The Marauders fell in. Sirius Black was tearstained and pale, hand in hand with Remus Lupin, whose eyes were a morbid kaleidoscope of horrified amber and wrathful gold. James Potter was there too, angry and flushed – hand in hand with _Lily Evans?! The Head Girl! _And then all four of them were shouting, yelling, and accusing _him_ of not keeping the students safe! Really, it was too much. Dumbledore stood, eyes flashing, and pulled out his wand.

"SILENCE!" They fell silent – bar Sirius, who opened his mouth, only to be silenced by a quick squeeze to his hand from a suddenly pacified Remus. "How dare you come here and accuse me of not protecting my students! I spend most days – _and nights_ – patrolling this castle, replenishing wards, and making sure that none of the HUNDREDS of dark forces out there can reach you! I spend my time and my energy and my magic shielding EVERY STUDENT IN THIS CASTLE from any evils found! I have NEVER heard such disrespect from a student in ALL MY TIME AS A TEACHER – no, in ALL MY TIME AS A WIZARD! I suggest you think very, very carefully about what you say next. Contrary to popular belief, I am NOT a patient man." He felt a small flicker of sadistic pleasure at the shamefaced looks on the Marauder's faces, and was about to dismiss them, when Lily spoke up.

"I'm sorry, Headmaster. But really, this is serious. We… There's something… It's hurting the students. And it isn't safe! We absolutely cannot let this continue." She bit her lip nervously, and Dumbledore felt in intrigue growing.

"What is this evil that you speak of?" _Please don't be what I'm thinking of… Please… In the name of Grindlewald…_

"The Mirror of Cosmaruri, sir." Dumbledore looked into the nervous face of Remus Lupin, and felt a sudden pang of sorrow and betrayal.

"Remus, my boy. That was years ago! Surely stirring up your friends into a campaign of mindless anger is the least profitable course of action possible?" He knew he had misjudged the situation when Remus flushed in embarrassment and confusion, and Sirius let out a growl of anger.

"Hey! He didn't stir anything! We've ALL seen the Mirror!" Dumbledore was speechless, a cold tingle of dread trickling down his spine.

"A…All of you?" He whispered, disbelieving. The four children nodded, and now he looked; now he really looked at them… _Miss Evans is pale, and shaking, her eyes are wide and terrified. Mr. Potter… He looks lost, hopeless, desolate. Remus Lupin is wavering closer to the boundary between man and wolf than ever before. And Mr. Black… He looks furious. Angry, defensive. Protective. That means… No. _

"Mr. Black. Did… Your brother, he didn't…" Sirius just nodded, his eyes suspiciously bright, and Dumbledore understood. _They could withstand it, they could bear it, face it and move on. But little Regulus Black… He is not of the same heroic caliber as the rest. If he saw the Mirror of Cosmaruri, it would tear him apart inside. It's destroyed him, and they want… Vengeance. Assurance. _Dumbledore sighed, and conjured four armchairs with a flick of his wand. "Sit." The four Seventh Years looked at each other, bewildered. "Sit!" At his urging, they sat, sinking uncomfortably into the electric-purple chintz. Dumbledore surveyed them over the top of his half-moon spectacles, and sighed again. "My children. Do you not think, that I would have destroyed that artifact of Darkness long, long ago, if I had any power to do so?" Their looks of shock, and disappointment were almost too much to bear. "I am truly sorry. But fear is a weakness in everyone. Even the strongest, most powerful of wizards have nightmares. I am testament to that."

-----

Later, when he was sitting alone in his office, Albus Dumbledore was the very picture of a defeated man. Head in hands, he glanced up at Fawkes, his loyal friend. "Ah, Fawkes. Whatever must they think of me? Probably the same as I. Albus Dumbledore, the greatest Wizard in the world. What a joke! A failure." He sighed and stared at the walls of his office, covered by the pitying faces of his predecessors. "What about you? Any of you? Did you face a challenge such as this? Such an undefeatable, menacing enemy… None can withstand it. I had heard rumors, of Darkness, of Evil lurking in the castle. Hiding behind the walls, watching the students, waiting, waiting for power to feast upon… I had also been told of its malice and its indestructible hold over any who saw it. Needless to say, I thought I was invincible. I thought only of defeating it, of people praising and rejoicing. Albus Dumbledore, Destroyer of Nightmares! I did not think… I had not thought I would be defeated. I… I still watch the memory, from time to time. It is a humbling reminder of my own mortality. Of my weakness. Of my failures." The Headmaster sighed, and stood up, making his way towards the cupboard at the back of the room. From a small golden case, he withdrew a crystal vile, filled with the pearly wisps of a memory. Only, these were not the soft, silky white of a normal memory. They were flecked with shards of red, and threads of black pulsed through the mixture like sharks. Shuddering, Dumbledore approached his Pensieve, and after a moments hesitation, plunged his head beneath the surface.

_It is close to midnight, and as I walk the empty corridors, the air seems to be made entirely of shadows. At least, the shadows far outweigh the few tentative silver stripes of moonlight that filter in through the narrow windows. I cast a silent Lumos, the gentle glow casting a faint blue over the walls, flickering over the faces of sleeping portraits, slumped against their golden frames. I hum softly to myself, a pleasant tune of medieval origin, which fills my mind with the sound of pan pipes and crackling autumnal fires. I can almost taste the roasted chestnuts, almost see the ladies gowns flashing past in bright jeweled hues – sapphire, ruby, emerald and gold. I turn a corner, and everything stops. _

_My song seems unnaturally loud in the sudden silence. I fall quiet, and my eyes readjusting to the sudden darkness, imprints of bright color swirling before my confused eyes, my ears ringing with the echoes of the music. Elsewhere in the castle, all is silent as the grave. Usually, even though I've been a teacher for only a year, I can hear everything. I can hear the footsteps of the house elves, and the murmuring whispers of the ghosts. I can hear faint echoes of Peeves' laughter, and the cheerful jingling of the bells on his jester's hat. I can hear the soft snores of the portraits, and the creaking groans of the staircases changing. And sometimes, if Myrtle for once is silent, and the owl's mellow hooting grows quiet, I can just about hear the sound of Hogwarts herself, humming gently with the sounds of magic and life. But tonight, there is nothing but silence. _

_Silence and darkness._

_The shadows are no longer velvety and warm, they are dark and ominous, and I feel as though they are hiding something. The moonlight's gentle caress has hardened, and falls across my face in cold bars of steel. The very walls of the castle seem to be glaring at me in animosity and disapproval. I cannot help but shiver, as something makes my magic freeze in my veins, and my Lumos flickers, and dies. Without the comforting blue glimmer, the castle is suddenly black as night, and there is a darkness that even my sharp eyes cannot pierce. I stumble forwards, a dozen incantations springing to mind, and all perishing before they can fall from my terrified, trembling lips. It is as though the air is made entirely of Dementors, draining my courage, my strength – even my magic. All I can see is darkness, and the occasional stone gargoyle, leering out at me, with eyes of stone fire, and a malicious smirk revealing granite fangs, poised to tear out my throat. _

_I stumble forwards a little more, my hands outstretched and then I see it. A glimmer of light. After all this mind-consuming dark, it seems to be my salvation. I run forwards, and freeze. There is a wizard standing before me, tall and clothed in robes of deepest blue. His hair and beard are as long as my own, but instead of auburn, they are as white as the moon. I lean forwards, and amidst the wrinkles, I can see myself, staring back. The twinkle in my eyes has faded, and died, and lines of sorrow and despair are etched on my brow. I am old. My hands are gnarled and shaking – they cannot even grasp my wand. For a moment, all I can do is look, and wonder. Is this a vision? Is this what will truly come to pass?_

_It is certainly not a terrible thing to behold. After all, we are all mortal. I shrug slightly, and step backwards, my interest waning. A mirror that shows ageing is hardly a very terrifying prospect. It's not likely to even be considered a Dark Artifact. And yet… There is something, something vicious and intelligent about it. I can feel a coldness radiating from the glass surface – a coldness that I have never felt before. I can feel it now, inside my head. My Occulumency barriers have been breached, and it's __**there**__, in my head, black and oozing malice, feeding on my thoughts, glutting on my hopes and my fears. _

_I take deep, rattling breath, panic freezing my blood. The image in the mirror warps, and changes. I am no longer frail, and shaking, but I am still old. There is a weary resignation about my face, and my slumped posture screams defeat. My mirror-image opens his mouth, and begins to speak. _

_The words falling from his lips are horrible, terrible, and I clap my hands over my ears in horror, but to no avail. The voice is there, broken and hopeless, echoing in my head. He is telling me of all the things I've done, everything I've ever done wrong. He tells me of my past. Of how I failed him, my Gellert, how I betrayed him. How I turned on him, and became the worst kind of wizard – a traitor. How I sacrificed him for the Light. The Light I did not deserve. I clench my jaw, and vow to withstand this. I would have succeeded, but then, just then, he begins to speak of my future. _

_I will be the reason Tom Riddle turns away from the Light._

_I will be responsible for creating a monster of which the like has never been seen by wizard nor man._

_I will be responsible for the deaths of thousands._

_I will be responsible for the deaths of so many, so many loyal soldiers._

_I will vow to protect them – and they will be destroyed._

_I will swear to defeat him, but I will lose myself in the process._

_I will try to save them all._

_I will end up failing everyone. _

_I will fail them, and I will lead the world to its ruin. _

_I will fail them, and I won't be able to stop the sky from falling._

_It will be my fault._

_The Dark will never be eradicated._

_All that is Light will fall._

_Because of me. _

**Author's Note:**

Kakorrhaphiophobia – A fear of failure.

Next Chapter: I'm going to leave this next chapter as a bit of a surprise…


	7. Mnemophobia

**Disclaimer:** Characters owned by J K Rowling, obviously. The Mirror, imagined/owned by myself.

**Summary:** For everything in this universe, there is an opposite. Yin and Yang, Fire and Water, Light and Dark. So, for the Mirror of Erised, that shows you the deepest and most desperate desires of your heart, surely there must be an opposite? Beware, for when you look into the Mirror of Cosmaruri, you will see the darkest, most terrible nightmares – you will see whatever you fear the most.

**WARNING!** This story will contain SLASH, as in two blokes, in love. You have been warned.

**The Mirror of Cosmaruri**

**Mnemophobia**

_Sometimes, when it's late at night and the whole world's asleep, I lie awake._

_I lie awake and let my mind wander, exploring every twist and turn of fate, every maze-corner of my life. _

_I let myself drift, let my subconscious rise to the forefront, wandering free amongst the sparse planes of my mind. _

_I lie awake, my glassy eyes picking out pattern after leering pattern in the flaking ceiling. _

_I lie awake, and my memories creep up on me, like a slowly rising tide that I never quite notice until its freezing cold waters are biting at my toes._

_By then, it's too late to resist._

_They puddle around me, rising in rippling, undulating waves of torment, rising, covering my ears and turning the world to a muffled shell, the only sound that of the distant sea. _

_The thoughts climb higher, spilling over my face, covering my nose and mouth – my senses consumed by the past._

_The last to go is always my eyes. _

_My sight flickers, blackness dripping across my vision, sending me spiraling helplessly backwards, flying, falling, remembering…_

_I remember such horrible, terrible things. _

_I remember anger, and pain, hot and red and burning bright._

_I remember sorrow, melodic and gentle, like the steady drip of tears, of rain pooling at my feet. _

_I remember times when my anguish was so complete, so soul-consuming, that I would lose myself in it. _

_I remember times when I was beyond hurt – beyond feeling. _

_I remember times when all I could do was breathe, letting the sadness, and the fear wash over me in waves of inky blue and the deepest crimson. _

_I remember so much… So much death and devastation._

_I wish…_

_I wish I could forget._

_I wish it was all a dream, a story that could have an end._

_I wish I could wake up._

It was almost inevitable really, Harry decided, that he had started hearing things. It was actually just damned predictable. After all, he was the Boy-Who-Lived, and nothing ordinary would ever dare to happen to him. And, well, it wasn't like it wasn't expected – what with the various emotional pressures in his life. He'd heard voices before anyway. But… This… This wasn't parseltongue. This was different, colder, darker – older. The strange humming was echoing through the walls, through the very bones of the castle, following him as he hurried down the candle-lit corridor. It'd been chasing him for days now. Sometimes the cheerful laughter of his friends managed to drown it out, but otherwise it was always there. When he was eating in the Great Hall, when he was going to Potions in the Dungeons, even when he was scrabbling up the ladder to Divination class, it was there. It was worst at night. Then, the whisperings grew in volume and quantity, until there was a cacophonous roar of voices, calling to him. And now, he'd given in. They whispered of power, of destiny, of answers to questions he didn't know he'd asked.

_Even heroes have their weaknesses…_ Harry reasoned, the soft pad of his bare feet inaudible as he wandered through the corridors, his invisible form casting no shadow in the darkness. Eventually he slowed to a stop, and placed a shaking hand onto grey stone. There. He could feel it, throbbing through the rock, a vein of pure power, fizzing and sparking, drawing him in. He smiled softly, and leant forwards, pressing his forehead to the wall. He could hear it, an ominous hum that pulsed though his blood filling him with power and determination. He pulled out his wand, and stepped back. He didn't even need to verbalize the spell – it was as though his trusty holly bough knew which spell he wanted to cast, and the Reducto charm burst out in a blaze of unrestrained red magic, turning the wall to dust.

Harry grinned, and coughed. He stepped forwards through the grey clouds of gaseous rock, unafraid and determined. He wasn't being brave or heroic – it just didn't even occur to him that he should be afraid. Blinking, he looked around, taking in a small dark chamber, fashioned with the same ancient, carved decoration he'd seen once before. Frowning, he reached out, pale fingers tracing over the patterns on the walls – roses entwining, climbing upwards towards the cavernous ceiling, snakes disguised under their thorny boughs. Twisted faces leered out from narrow crevices, sneering gargoyles following him with their cold, dead eyes. Harry shivered, and took another step forwards, his hand still brushing along the wall. It ran through something cold and wet and he leapt back, a shriek just shy of tumbling from his lips. He raised his hand, staring at it – but it was too dark for him to make out anything but the general shape. Gulping, he wiped his hand on his pyjama trousers, and kept walking, his wand grasped tightly in his hand, ready to curse at a moments notice.

He could feel the power building, reeling him in, drawing him closer, and with every step he could feel himself losing the will to turn back. _I… What is this? This terrible, ancient power… I can feel it calling to me, and the closer I get… The louder it calls… _He took one last step, eyes blinking rapidly, adjusting in the darkness, and screamed.

The noise was loud and sudden in the silent chamber, and Harry jumped, his heat pumping, adrenaline surging through him in a burst of shock and terror. He had been mentally preparing himself for whatever the source might be – another Basilisk, a Dementor – even Voldemort himself could have been standing there, and Harry wouldn't have screamed. It was just… He really hadn't been expecting to find himself face to face with Cedric Diggory.

The older boy was pale and ghostly, and quite clearly dead. His eyes were rolled back and glazed, and the flesh of his cheek had rotted and caved in, a trickle of bugs crawling from his decomposing mouth, and down his cadaverous neck. And yet somehow, somehow, he was talking.

"Hello Harry. Aren't you pleased to see me? You should be happy, Harry. We've all come back to you – everyone you ever killed. All those innocents that you murdered. We came back, Harry… Aren't you going to greet us?" Harry couldn't move, let alone speak. He stared at Cedric in undisguised horror, his mouth dropping open as the ghostly forms behind the former Hufflepuff took solid shape. His mother, her hair reduced to clumps of rotting scarlet, her eye sockets empty, leering and cold. His father, his glasses still perched on a face of bones. And there, pushing his way to the front, a grin on his moldering face – Sirius. Harry screamed once more as Sirius waved, his bony fingers laced with strips of broken flesh, and said "Hey kiddo. Long time, no see…"

Harry shuddered, gasping, and shoved his hands over his eyes, his wand falling to the floor. _They aren't here. They aren't. They can't be. Dumbledore said… Dumbledore said there was no spell to bring back the dead. They're not here. It's a trick. Just a trick. Like a Boggart. A Boggart! _His Seeker training kicking in, he snatched up his wand and shrieked, "RIDDICULUS!"

To his surprise, instead of turning the zombies into happily smiling replicas of his dead loved ones, the spell simply bounced back towards him in a jet of silver, the curse-light glinting off an enormous sheet of what appeared to be glass. Harry ducked the rebounding curse automatically, and took a hesitant step forwards, his mouth falling open in surprise.

It was a mirror.

_Though,_ thought Harry dazedly, the _word mirror hardly does it justice._ It loomed ominously out of the darkness, three times the height of a man, and framed ornately in old, antique gold, spotted black with age. The glass, however, was unscathed by the turn of the centuries, and was as clear and smooth as the surface of the Black Lake in the dead of winter. Harry tentatively reached out and traced the frame, his fingers brushing over the twining limbs of trees, encrusted with skulls and shooting stars. He frowned and closed his eyes, the patterns reminding him horribly of a dim and distant memory… _The Mirror of Erised…_

He'd found that by accident too, and it had been covered in strange carvings and letters, hidden away in the heart of the castle. Harry frowned. Did that mean that Dumbledore had hidden this mirror here too? Somehow, Harry didn't think so. This mirror was too cold, too… Strange. Dumbledore would never have allowed it to be put anywhere near the students. And besides, Dumbledore probably didn't even know this mirror existed. After all, he had told Harry that the Mirror of Erised was the only one of its kind.

_But… It's almost as though it's the other half – two sides of a coin, two pieces of the same puzzle. They just… Match. _

Harry tilted his head backwards, and squinted up to the top of the mirror. _There_. A dull thrill of excitement and fear shot through him as he found what he was looking for.

Inscribed along the top of the mirror, in twisted, archaic letters, were the words:

_Eu nu arata chipul tau da Cosmaruri din inima ta._

Harry frowned. _Okay... Not quite the same then. The Mirror of Erised was a simple backwards-spelt inscription, which said… 'I show not your face but your heart's desire,' or something along those lines. This is way more complicated. I'll have to remember to tell 'Mione, she loves a code-_

Harry's inner ramblings were cut short, for the moment he thought of Hermione, the reflection of the mirror – which had gone to being just that, a reflection of him, as soon as he realized what it was – had changed. Instead of his own bespectacled face, it was… Tom.

Tom Riddle was staring out of the mirror, his red eyes glazed with anger. Harry gave a start and leapt back. They really did look remarkably similar, and for a moment… Harry could have sworn it was himself, his eyes red and bleeding. But, no. It was young Tom Riddle, angry and wrathful, his handsome face twisted into a sneer. Riddle raised his hand, and placed it flat against the glass, and Harry couldn't help but reach up and place his shaking hand palm-to-palm with Tom. His breath caught in his throat, and he leant forwards, resting his forehead against Tom's glass one. His eyes fell shut, and all he could hear was his own terrified breathing. But…

He could feel Tom's hand, warm against his own. He could feel the other boys hair, tickling his cheekbones. He could feel Tom Riddle's breath ghosting across his face, surprisingly warm. Suddenly, Tom's fingers twitched, and his hand was crushed in Riddle's grasp. Harry's eyes snapped open in horror, and Tom smiled, and started to chant.

The words were evil, cold and sibilant. Parseltongue. Harry felt something inside of him respond, and he couldn't stop his treacherous mouth from opening, his betraying tongue from forming the foreign syllables, his traitor's lips letting the spell spill forth, the two of them chanting, chanting in tandem, ancient, evil words, again and again and again…

Harry closed his eyes, tears welling up, his hand shaking in Tom's cold grip, as his voice continued to sound, echoing through the chamber. The rhythmic, archaic chanting was conjuring all sorts of nightmarish images to form beneath his tightly shut eyelids – leering, twisting, writhing monstrous forms that poured out from the mirror, seeping into his mind in a torrent of ice-cold malice. A jet-black python reared up before Harry, its leering eyes spitting red fire, its forked tongue flickering manically, as though in anticipation. For a moment, they were still, suspended in time, boy and snake locked a death-gaze, unable to tears their eyes away. Then, with a glint of fangs, and a shrieking hiss, the snake lunged forwards, Tom let go of his hand, and Harry was plunged into darkness.

He was falling, faster and faster, through the heady, impenetrable darkness of a thundercloud lost in deep space, his screams sent spiraling, unheard, through the air. He fell, further and further, weightless, his eyes rolling, his mind dazed, until he landed spread-eagled, with a curse and a crunch of bones. He tentatively opened his eyes, and even though he'd yet to move, he found himself curled up, knees clasped to his chest, his breath coming in sobbing gasps.

"I'm sorry, Uncle Vernon!" The words tore themselves unbidden from his throat, bitter tasting and raw as poison. "I'm sorry!" He was five years old again, and the dark walls of the cupboard were closing in around him, crushing him, making it impossible to breathe. His eyesight had blurred into fizzing whiteness, and in his desperation to move, to see, to _breathe_, he felt himself slipping towards unconsciousness.

Everything imploded in a blast of chaotic green, a chilling, rasping voice echoing around Harry's head, those words - those unforgettable, hideous words -

"Kill the spare!"

Harry screamed once more, and found he was able to move, flinging his arms over his head as something cold rained down over him – a shower of dirt. He was being buried alive. He opened his mouth in an automatic, desperate gasp for air, and could taste the rotten taste of soil and decay. The cold and the dark pressed down on him, like an iron cloud, the icy burn of death flooding his veins, his breath catching in his chest.

_I'mgoingtodie…_

Slowly, slowly, he could feel his arms moving, twitching, sending electric spasms of pain shooting towards his heart - and then he was back in the chamber, his robes soaked in muck and filthy water, tearing the basilisk fang out of his arm in a spray of blood and glistening venom. He stared, bewildered, at the bloody gash in his arm, and fell backwards, his eyes rolling up into his head, falling backwards, backwards…

And then it was Sirius _Sirius_ falling back through the veil, falling away from him, leaving him forever. Harry's heart gave a pang, and he could feel tears dribbling over his face, smearing over his glasses. The glasses suddenly vanished and he was Tom Riddle again, brandishing his bone-handled wand and shrieking the Killing Curse in that horrible falsetto, over and over… Bellatrix was there, writhing on the ground, her shrill screams shattering his eardrums, his teeth clenched so hard that it hurt – and then he was Harry. Just Harry. Holding his holly-wand, and casting the Cruciatus Curse – and meaning it. The burning rage, the fiery thirst for revenge that burnt in his heart, twisting him, blackening his magic… Just like Tom.

Bellatrix's screams suddenly turned to the deeper, more desperate cries of Professor Quirrel – _the first man I ever killed – _as he burnt away to dust, Harry's touch cremating him alive, as though he were made of the same stuff as the Sun itself.

Tom was back, his whispering voice sneaking into Harry's mind like tendrils of devil's snare. _**Look, Harry… Look at us… We are the same, you and I. We both kill – to prove our worth. To stake a claim on our very existence… Isn't it lonely, Harry Potter? Isn't it so horribly, terribly lonely?**_

"Shut UP!"

_**You can't deny it, Harry… It's right here… I'm right here, in your blood, in your SOUL…**_

"SHUT UP!"

His scar was on fire, and he could feel his head splitting open, blood running down his face, spraying the world with scarlet and-

Green. He was running, and the world around him had blurred into streaks of green, emerald, lime and chartreuse. The forbidden forest. Branches were scratching at his face, roots clawing at his feet, until he stumbled and fell, through the leaves and insects and dirt, and into a cavernous pit, filled with darkness and-

Bodies. Harry cried out in horror as he recognized the bloodied face of his godfather, and the graying hair of his favorite professor, Remus Lupin. And there, Hermione, her mouth still slightly parted in shock, and Ron, his face deathly pale beneath its many freckles. His father, his mother, Cedric, Dumbledore, his own cadaverous face, Draco… It took just one look at those silver eyes frosted over, glazed and lifeless, for Harry's heart to shatter.

"NO! NO! I WON'T LET YOU!" His voice was raw, and he couldn't have stopped his tears for the world.

"I WON'T LET YOU TAKE HIM FROM ME! I WON'T LET YOU TURN HIM INTO ONE OF MY NIGHTMARES!" He fell to his knees, the stone chamber swimming back into view.

"I… I have nothing to fear from you. These are just... Memories. My memories. All you do is show me my life as a nightmare! But I'm already there, living it. I… I have nothing left to fear. Nothing."

_Nothing._

Harry slumped forwards, his world shattering into a thousand shards of shadowed light, knocking him unconscious before he even hit the floor.

**Author's Note:**

Okay, a couple of apologies here… Well, sorry it took so long for one thing! And I don't think its one of my best-written chapters either… A bit surreal, and dreamy. And then, or course, there's the lack of our favorite Marauders! But don't worry, that'll be explained later.

Mnemophobia – A fear of memories.

Next Chapter: What on earth could Severus Snape, greasy haired, ex-death eater and giant Bat of the Dungeons possibly fear?


	8. Myctophobia

**Disclaimer:** Characters owned by J K Rowling, obviously. The Mirror, imagined/owned by myself.

**Summary:** For everything in this universe, there is an opposite. Yin and Yang, Fire and Water, Light and Dark. So, for the Mirror of Erised, that shows you the deepest and most desperate desires of your heart, surely there must be an opposite? Beware, for when you look into the Mirror of Cosmaruri, you will see the darkest, most terrible nightmares – you will see whatever you fear the most.

**WARNING!** This story will contain SLASH, as in two blokes, in love. You have been warned.

**The Mirror of Cosmaruri**

**Myctophobia**

It had been a long and trying day for Severus Snape. The very first lesson of the day had been Third Year Gryffindor versus Third Year Slytherins – a near impossible class to teach by any Professor's standards. On top of that, he'd had to break up yet another fight between Malfoy and Potter. No – between Malfoy and _Weasley_. Potter hadn't actually been anywhere in sight until Snape showed up, and then he'd actually helped stop Weasley from beating Draco to a bloody pulp. Snape frowned. That was the fifth time this week that he'd found the two boys arguing, and it was only Wednesday! _Something's happened there. Something drastic has changed the dynamics of the Golden Trio. Maybe Weasley has taken it upon himself to scourge the school of as many 'Death Eater Bastards' as he can find. I'll probably find that it was all Potter's idea. I have no doubt that he's the mastermind behind this whole thing…_

Snape frowned, trying to think back and remember if Potter had been behaving suspiciously as of late. Unfortunately, as hard as he tried, he couldn't fault Potter's behavior. In fact, if anything, Potter had been more quiet and well behaved than usual – staying out of any intercations with the Slytherins, and paying attention in Potions. _Hm. Suspicious. It's always the quiet ones…_

Glaring, Snape continued to stalk down the corridor towards his office, his hand clenched around his wand as though it were Potter's neck. _Stupid boy, causing me trouble! If only I could just find proof, then Dumbledore would have to-_

Snape's inner musings were cut short as he rounded the corner, and stopped dead.

There was a child sitting on the floor outside his office.

_How strange…_

Bewildered, Snape took a step forwards and cleared his throat. The black-haired boy gave no response, save for a tightening of bony white fingers that were fisted in his hair. His knees were drawn up to his chest, his bare feet flat on the floor, toes curled up under the soles of his feet, almost as though he were trying to disappear in on himself.

Snape frowned and coughed again. No response. The Potions Master's eyebrows rose, as he took in the grey muggle tracksuit bottoms and the red, oversized t-shirt, hanging loose and baggy over thin, slightly shaking shoulders.

_A Gryffindor._

Snape shook his head, nonplussed. This was unheard of! No Gryffindor would dare to sit outside the Potions Master's office – especially after curfew! It was practically suicidal – a guaranteed months worth of detention at a minimum. No student could possibly hope to get away with such ludicrous behavior! Snape was just working himself into a fury when he realized two things.

One, the boy was in fact crying, teardrops splashing to the already damp stone at his feet.

Two, there was only one Gryffindor brave – or foolhardy – enough to ever dare to approach Snape, because there was only one Gryffindor who had the Headmaster wrapped around his little finger – and there was only one Gryffindor who knew of his identity as a Light Spy. In fact, there was only one Gryffindor stupid and selfish enough to risk compromising that position. There was only one Gryffindor who could possibly be sitting there.

"Potter?!"

This got a reaction. Potter froze, his breathing suddenly far too rapid and shaky for Snape's liking. He carried on, regardless.

"What the devil are you doing outside my office, Potter?! It's well past curfew, and you're no Slytherin, in case you'd forgotten!"

Snape was so disturbed and shell-shocked that he completely forgot to deduct any points. This, however, did not seem to give Potter any comfort. He just sniffed, and refused to look up. Snape could almost smell the fear radiating off him – and was that _blood_ on the boys hands?!

_Something has happened to him. Something terrible has happened. _Snape was suddenly filled with a sickening sense of dread. _What could possibly have happened to __**Potter**__to make him so afraid?! He should be safe, here in Hogwarts!_ Snape stood in silence for a couple of seconds before reaching a decision. If the castle had been breached, if they'd already got to Potter, and turned him into a sniveling shadow of the hero he was supposed to be, then it was over. All the planning, the spying, the war strategies, the preparations… It was all over, all for nothing. _If they've got to Potter… _

_Then we've lost. _

_Everything I have fought for… _

_It's all for nothing._

_It's over._

Snape blinked and ran a hand though his hair, before letting it fall limply to his side. He cleared his throat again, his mouth dry, and his mind whirling.

"What… What happened to you, Potter? Was…" He cleared his throat again, not wanting to ask, not wanting his suspicions to be true, because if they were… No. It was unthinkable, it just couldn't… Couldn't have been… But maybe… "Potter, was it Him? Was it the Dark Lord?" The words were like bitter poison on his tongue, and he waited, tense, for the answer.

The answer that never came. Potter just let out a slight whimper, and a few more tears fell, shattering on cold stone. Snape signed, and asking himself what the hell he though he was doing, he sat down quietly next to Potter. He heard the smaller boy's breath hitch in surprise, and then-

Snape froze. He'd never been any good at comforting people, and now Potter – _Harry bloody Potter_ – had flung his arms around Snape's neck and was sobbing his little Gryffindor heart out.

Snape should have yelled. He should have deducted points, issued detentions, expulsions, hexes, and curses… Anything to get this blasted boy off him. But…

_He… he sounds like her when he cries. _This stray thought was so heartbreakingly unexpected that Snape could do nothing but sit there, remembering a moment long ago, the only other time when someone had willing turned to him for comfort. He closed his eyes, and suddenly, the tears soaking through his robes were hers, and the arms around him were pale and freckled, and the soft hair under his chin was hers, red and flaming, like silken rubies. The sobs were hers, desperate and desolate, and the heartbeat was hers, and he could feel her, hear her, smell her soft scent, of shampoo and rainwater, and… and…

_Lily…_

Snape could feel his breath catch in his throat, his eyes burning. He forced himself to pull away, and look down, his eyes falling upon the face of his enemy, his tormentor. But instead of reveling with joy at the sight of a tearful James Potter, all Snape could see were her eyes, big and green, shimmering emeralds swimming with tears, like forest leaves dripping with rain, or blades of wild grass, sparkling with dew. Snape stared into her eyes, and he could remember, her tearful voice, pleading with him, begging him to stay with her. To stay and to comfort, to keep her safe.

And just like then, Snape had no idea what to say. Her unexpected, undeserved trust was broken, as he sat there in silence, stone-cold silence, and let her walk away from him, tears of betrayal and disappointment still falling from her eyes.

Snape wholly expected Potter to give up and walk away too, to run back to Gryffindor Tower, to find someone else, someone deserving to confide in, who knew exactly what to say, and then later laugh, laugh at the memory of his hated Potions Master sitting helplessly on the floor, silent, shaken and lost.

Eventually, however, Potter's breathing evened out, and he pulled his arms away. But he didn't leap up, didn't laugh, and didn't run. Instead, he sighed mournfully and scrambled slowly to his feet. "I'm sorry, sir." Potter's voice was raw and painful to hear, as though he'd been screaming.

"I… I didn't… I just… I just found myself here, I didn't… I didn't plan this. I just… I was just _here_, and then you were there, and… and… I just… I'm… I'm really…" Potter's voice hitched and dropped to a hoarse whisper. "I was just so afraid, sir."

Snape frowned, forcing his thoughts out of the past, his fears about the Dark Lord rushing back. He let out a long, slow breath, and motioned for Potter to come back and sit down. Potter just stood there, slightly hunched over, covered in innumerable bloody scratches, his eyes wide and fearful. Snape snarled slightly. "Sit, Potter! I am not going to hurt you!" Potter continued to stare at him, terrified and mistrusting, and Severus could feel his heart breaking at the sight of her eyes looking at him with such an expression. "Potter! Stop looking at me like that, and sit! For Merlin's sake, Potter, stop it! Just stop it! I can't bear it, Potter!" _I can't…_

There was a moment of silence, in which Severus could've sworn his stomach fell out of his boots, and he shrank to being about two feet tall. Eventually, Snape just sighed and tipped his head back, his eyes falling closed. If he was going to hell, he may as well do the job thoroughly. "What happened to you, Potter?" he asked again. Silence. "I am assuming that my position as a spy has been discovered, as I was not aware that an attack had been planned. I didn't know of any plot, any… I was not informed of the Dark Lord's intentions. If I had, Dumbledore would have been able to take precautions. You are still safe here, Potter. It will all be fine. We can get you some protection, something…" He trailed off, suddenly too tired to even speak.

Thankfully, Potter finally spoke. "It wasn't Him, Professor." Snape's head snapped up. _All… All is not lost?!_

Potter snorted and rubbed his eyes tiredly. "As if Voldemort could scare me!" Snape frowned. It was true, Potter had faced the Dark Lord and lived – but he would have to be a fool not to be afraid. Snape was suddenly very afraid for the boy's sanity as he laughed derisively.

"He's nothing but a snake-faced, monstrous half-blood who lives his life following the destiny he's given. I… I who choose my own destiny… I have nothing to fear from him."

Snape was speechless. "Potter. You… You know about the prophecy?!" Potter froze, before shrugging and nodding slowly.

"Yeah. Dumbledore told me at the end of last year after… After…" He trailed off, and for some strange reason, Snape could feel a pang of sympathy for the boy.

"After Black died." Potter flinched and nodded.

"Yeah. That. Anyway, I know now. I know… I know what I'm supposed to do. I know what Dumbledore expects me to be. I… know that it's my fault, sir. It's because… It's because of me that He's done all this. That's why it's up to me to make it right. To be the hero. To atone for all my sins." Snape stared at Potter, his mind spinning. The boy's eyes were wide and feverish and his unhealthily pale face was flushed with two spots of red. His breath was coming in furious gasps, and a solitary tear escaped down his cheek.

"Potter," Snape enunciated clearly, "Don't be so obtuse. Of course it isn't your fault! No one thinks that it is! Good Merlin, Potter, you're just a child – and an orphan child at that! A Gryffindor orphan! What harm could you possibly do to anyone?"

Potter inhaled sharply, and turned away to wipe his eyes. "But sir," Potter mumbled on, his voice muffled by his shirt sleeve. "You blame me, don't you? After all, its… it's my fault that she died. It's my fault that you lost her."

Snape gasped and leapt to his feet, betrayal stinging bitter and sharp in his heart. "How…" His voice was for the first time in memory shaky, and afraid. "What has Albus told you?! Did he tell you this?!" Harry blinked, and took a step backwards, shaking his head wordlessly. Snape saw red. He grabbed the front of Potter's shirt, and slammed him back against the dungeon wall, and practically roared, "LIAR! WHO TOLD YOU, POTTER?! WHO TOLD YOU THAT?! WHO TOLD YOU ABOUT THAT?!" His eyes glinting manically, spit spraying Potter's face. Miraculously, Potter managed to choke out an answer, and prevent Snape from killing him then and there.

"I… Hogwarts told me! It was Hogwarts, she told me!"

Snape blinked, his anger fading to a cool pink mist instead of the mind-stifling red thunder-clouds from seconds ago. He didn't let Potter go.

_Oh god… He's actually insane…_

Harry licked his lips nervously. "Well, sir, you see… Sometimes… Sometimes when I can't sleep, I go for a walk, to clear my head. And… I… It's the castle, sir! The castle's alive! I can hear it, the flow of magic, and the whispers of the house elves… And sometimes, sir, the ghosts talk to me. And the portraits. Mostly about the funny things that they've seen in their time, and the gossip. But… Sometimes, if I've had a particularly rough day, then… Somehow, they know. And then… Then they tell me about my parents." His voice broke, but he soldiered on. "I… I think it was the Grey Lady who told me, in the end. She said… She used to see you studying in the library sir. She said… She said my mother… My mother was your only friend, sir. And… I… I look the spitting image of the man who took her away from you. I can understand, sir. I can understand why you hate me. I'd hate me too you know."

Snape was speechless.

Eventually, from somewhere he dredged up enough sense to actually speak. "Five points." He saw Harry stiffen indignantly, but carried smoothly on, his voice still quiet and confused. "To Gryffindor House. For discretion. And though it was not asked for, nor indeed deserved, it appears I should award another five points for an exceptional ability to empathize."

The look on Potter's face was priceless.

"T…Ten points?!" He spluttered. "Are… Are you okay, sir?!"

Snape snorted again. "I will be, Potter. Once I've woken up and this bizarre semblance of reality turns out to be nothing more than a very odd, whiskey-induced dream." Potter let out a startled chuckle before swaying slightly, and sitting down with a thump. Snape instantly paled, and knelt next to Potter. "Potter? Potter, what is it?" It was then, with an ice-cold trickle of dread that Snape realized that other than the fact that it wasn't the Dark Lord, he had no idea what had led Potter to him in this state in the first place. "Potter, what happened?!" Potter looked up at him, his eyes dim.

"I… It was a mirror, sir."

_A Mirror. _Snape knew instantly what the boy was talking about. _That goddamn mirror. I told Albus, must've told him a thousand times – it will find him. And when it does… It will destroy him. _He opened his mouth to say something – anything – but Potter beat him to it.

"It's okay though, sir. It… It doesn't matter. Just… Just forget I was ever here, okay?" Snape snorted.

"That's bullshit, Potter. You can't be okay, not after seeing The Mirror of Cosmaruri. No one's ever okay after that." Harry stared at him, disbelief evident on his face. "Not even me."

"You?" Potter breathed incredulously. "You've seen it?!" Snape nodded, and sat down properly, leaning backwards.

"Well, I don't think either of us will be getting to sleep any time soon, not if you've seen what I think you have. So, sit back Potter, and for once in your life, listen." Potter sat back, his face pale, but his eyes alert and showing no signs of sleepiness. "It was years ago… The day I received the Dark Mark. It was in my sixth year of school, just after Halloween. Around the fifth of November. I don't remember precisely – those days have become a bit of a blur, a haze of nightmarish unknowing. Anyway, it was late, and I snuck back into school after the Initiation Ceremony. I was exhausted, but there was no way I could've slept. Not after that. So I decided to take a walk to, ah, clear my head." He heard Potter snicker next to him, but continued regardless. "I found myself wandering along the Third Floor Corridor – with which I remember you to be particularly acquainted. It was through the same door, in fact, as the one through which you found the trapdoor to the Philosopher's Stone, and?" He paused, and Potter got the hint.

"The Mirror of Erised," he breathed.

"Exactly!" said Snape triumphantly. "You see, Potter, those rooms which we charmed – they weren't actually there. They were called upon to appear if they were needed. In other words, they only existed when someone was looking for them. Do you see, Potter?" The boy nodded, and Snape continued. "There are hundreds of rooms like that in this castle, the most powerful of which is the Room of Requirement. That gets inside your head and gives you what you want or need. The other rooms… They contain only previously designed and created rooms, charmed to appear when they're called upon. In the case of the Mirror of Cosmaruri… Well, I did some research, and found little information. Not many people escape that Mirror, Potter. It's a Mirror, designed to reveal whatever people fear the most. It is the complete opposite of the Mirror of Erised – the Mirror of Desire. This is the Mirror of Nightmares. In the end, most people are driven insane – or just drop dead on the spot, either by fear or by their own terrified hand. Anyway, I digress. I was sixteen years old, as you are now, still a child. The Mirror sought me out – it feed on power, and those with strong magical cores are drawn to it. It's no surprise, Potter, that it found you. You are, after all, the Chosen One." Potter scowled, but said nothing, still listening intently to his tale. "I wandered naively through the door, wandering where my feet were going to take me. But instead of adventures, or indeed, my own bed, I found myself looking into a mirror. But it wasn't my face that I saw." There was a pause, as Snape summoned up the courage to reveal to Lily's son just how much his mother meant to him. "It was your mother's."

Harry gaped at him, his eyes wide in surprise. Then he gulped audibly, and stammered, "Did… Did you… In the mirror, I mean, did you… hurt her?" Snape frowned, and tried wildly to guess what the boys desolate, pleading expression might mean. _Maybe… Maybe he saw the same thing? Maybe he is more like you that you realize…_ He looked away, and spoke only one word.

"Yes."

"Did you kill her?" Harry's voice was quiet and laced with tears. Snape nodded.

"Yes."

"Did… Was it… How?" Snape shuddered slightly, unwilling to describe the horror he had seen. Potter persisted. "Was it horrible, terrible, bloody and… and…"

"Yes." _There are some things that you just can't describe. How could I tell you, Potter? You of all people? How could I tell you that I saw myself grasp your mother by her lovely long hair, and slit her throat, her blood flooding out in a fountain of blackening redness. How could I tell you that I heard her screams, bubbling and gurgling and desperate? How could I tell you that I saw her eyes glaze over, her body convulse and stiffen, and collapse to the floor? How could I even begin to tell you that?!_

Harry was speaking again, his voice scarcely audible even in the silent corridor. "When… When you killed her… Did… Did you… Did you laugh?!" Snape's head snapped up, and he was only mildly surprised to see that the boys face was once more streaked with tears.

"Yes." At this Harry let out a sob, and his head dropped into his hands. Snape watched him for a moment, before carrying on with his story.

"That's not all, Potter. That's not all I did. That's not the worst of it. I… I was… Disgusting. The things I did, the things I saw… Burning, bleeding, crying, screaming, dying… I can remember their faces, pleading, desperate, lifeless… I saw myself, bring chaos and destruction upon the world – at the bidding of my Master. My Lord. I saw myself, consumed by the Dark Arts, consumed by lust for power, by my will to serve, by my own wish for personal gain. I saw myself, drowning in the Darkness, evil growing, twisted and wrong inside of me. My eyes turned black, and my heart to stone. I… I… Isn't it ironic, Potter? Your Potions Master, Great Bat of the Dungeons…Deathly afraid of the Dark?"

Harry grinned wryly, and looked over at Snape. Snape just scowled back - though his eyes were glimmering with something less hateful, less bitter than usual. And Harry couldn't help but laugh. Snape's face crumpled into a bittersweet smile, and he stared at the floor, as though it held all the answers.

"Harry." His voice was quiet, and strangely gentle, causing Harry to stop laughing at once. "Has anyone ever told you? You may look like your father... But your laugh... Your laugh is entirely your mother's."

For a long time, Harry could say nothing at all. When he eventually found control enough to talk, the only words he could find to say were, "You told Voldemort the prophecy, didn't you?"

Snape went white, and could have sworn that his blood turned to ice - but he nodded anyway.

"Yes, Potter. I did." Potter stared at him, blinking.

"Are you sorry? Do… Do you wish you could go back and… Fix it?"

Snape could feel his eyes burning but managed to answer with a relatively steady voice. "With all my heart, Potter. With all my heart."

They sat together in silence, both with eyes brimming with tears – both determined not to let them fall. It was Harry who broke first, and wiped his eyes with his wrist. Snape just blinked furiously, and tried desperately to push his memories away, back to the dark corner of his mind where they were usually left to rot. There was just one thing left to say – one more thing he had to know. "So, Potter. What do you think of me now? A sad old man, who let himself become his own worst fear. I let my jealousy, my hatred overcome me – I let it destroy everything that was precious to me. I let the Darkness into my life, and look! Look! Look what I have become. I live a life that isn't even worth living." His voice rang out, bitter and flooded with loneliness.

He was startled to feel a tentative hand on his shoulder, and looked up once more into Lily's shining eyes. "Don't be stupid, sir." Harry's voice was soft and understanding. "There's always hope."

Snape shook his head incredulously. "How can YOU of all people tell me that! You, with the world on your shoulders, and your fate practically inevitable!" Harry just looked at him, sad and smiling.

"Because. Because if I let go of my hope... I would be letting go of everything. And I'm not ready to stop fighting. Not just yet."

**Author's Note:**

Myctophobia – A fear of darkness.

Two posts in a day! A record, I think…

Next Chapter: Tom Riddle.


	9. Thanatophobia

**Disclaimer:** Characters owned by J K Rowling, obviously. The Mirror, imagined/owned by myself.

**Summary:** For everything in this universe, there is an opposite. Yin and Yang, Fire and Water, Light and Dark. So, for the Mirror of Erised, that shows you the deepest and most desperate desires of your heart, surely there must be an opposite? Beware, for when you look into the Mirror of Cosmaruri, you will see the darkest, most terrible nightmares – you will see whatever you fear the most.

**WARNING!** This story will contain SLASH, as in two blokes, in love. You have been warned.

**The Mirror of Cosmaruri**

**Thanatophobia**

"_There's always hope."_

_Snape shook his head incredulously. "How can YOU of all people tell me that! You, with the world on your shoulders, and your fate practically inevitable!" _

_Harry just looked at him, sad and smiling._

_"Because. Because if I let go of my hope... I would be letting go of everything. And I'm not ready to stop fighting. Not just yet."_

Snape opened his mouth to reply, with words of gratitude, of thanks and much deserved respect - but before he could do so, Harry's smile froze into a grimace, Lily's eyes rolled back into his head, and he fell slowly forward, collapsing to the ground with a sickening crunch. Snape leapt up, cursing. He had forgotten that Potter – no. _Harry. _ He had forgotten that Harry was injured. Sighing, he scooped Harry up into his arms, and strode off towards the Hospital Wing, robes billowing out behind him in a tsunami of black silk.

-----

Poppy Pomfrey was there the instant Severus kicked open the Hospital Wing door with one heavy-duty, unpolished boot. "Severus! Upon my word, Severus, what have you DONE?!" Severus rolled his eyes, and plonked Potter down on the bed nearest the nurse's office, before whirling around to face Pomfrey, his black eyes glinting with much-practiced fury.

"It is not **I** who has done **anything**!" He roared. "Do you really dare suggest to me that I would be a traitor to the cause?! That I would intentionally and maliciously harm Harry?!" The usually stern nurse had gone pale, and was now shaking her head and attempting desperately to eat her hastily spoken words.

"No, Severus, it was ill-phrased, I assure you I-"

"HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO ME THAT WAY! QUESTIONING MY HONOUR, MY ALLEIGANCES-"

"**SILENCE!**"

They fell silent at once, turning slowly to face the piercing gaze of a furious Albus Dumbledore. "Now let me make one thing clear." The voice of the Headmaster was quietly wrathful, and Severus braced himself for the disappointed, reproachful look that was sure to be thrown his way. Instead, however, Dumbledore was staring straight at Madam Pomfrey. "I will not tolerate such accusations towards my son, Poppy. This I must make clear."

Severus' mouth dropped open in surprise, and he felt his heart twist, almost painfully. _His… Son? _

_Albus…_

Poppy opened and closed her mouth rapidly, reminding Severus of a rather intoxicated Grindylow, before nodding stiffly. "I see. I'll be in my office if the boy needs me." There was a slight, awkward pause, where neither Severus, nor Dumbledore begged her to stay and help, before she nodded again, and snapped, "Headmaster," before turning on her heel, and stalking off into the office.

Dumbledore watched her go with a slight sigh. "Goodness." He mumbled eventually. "It's possible, I think, that it is going to take more than a bottle of Ogden's Old to sooth those ruffled feathers…" Severus snorted, but when Dumbledore looked up, he turned his gaze determinedly to Harry. There was another moment of silence, in which Severus thought of a million things to say – but could find no way to phrase them. In the end, he didn't need to. He tensed as Dumbledore moved to stand next to him, and place a wizened hand gently on his shoulder.

"Severus, my boy. No matter what harsh words you speak, or defensive, unbreakable masks you wear, to me… To me you shall always be the mistrusted, friendless, wonderfully bright young child, with such an unloving background – but such desire to be loved – who begged for my help. You shall have it, Severus. You shall have that and more. You are as good as my son. Surely you must know that."

Severus managed to nod, and spoke hesitantly, trying desperately to ignore the lump in his throat. "I… Albus. My words before… They were inappropriate, and I apologize." Dumbledore just chuckled.

"Not all of them, my boy." Severus looked up, puzzled, and Dumbledore smiled gently. "You called him Harry." Severus could feel his face growing hot as Albus burbled on. "For how long, I wonder, have you seen him as her son, instead of his?"

-----

_The world is bright outside…_

_There's sunshine._

_It's making the backs of my eyelids dance with colour._

_I can hear someone breathing._

_Is that me?_

_No._

_Someone's there._

_They're holding my hand!_

_Who…?_

Harry cracked open an eyelid, and was mildly surprised to see not Hermione, or even Ron, but Remus Lupin. The werewolf was sitting on a rickety chair by the side of his bed, holding one of Harry's hands tightly in his, and staring distractedly into the distance, as though it were a portal to happier times long since passed. Harry tried to greet his ex-Professor, but all that came out was a slight whimper. Remus' amber eyes automatically snapped into focus, and he looked down at Harry, smiling tiredly.

"Harry! It's good to see you awake! You've had us all somewhat worried!" Harry frowned.

_What the hell…? What happened? Was I hit by a Bludger again? God that's embarrassing… _

"Remus." Remus smiled back at him, but did not let go of his hand. Harry squinted slightly. Even without his glasses, he could tell that Lupin was hiding something. His voice was too strained, his grip on Harry's hand just too tight to be mild concern. _He's really worried! Was it Voldemort? _

_Wait._

_Someone's already asked me that. _

_Was it the Dark Lord?_

_No…_

_Why was Snape there?! _

_I-_

_Oh._

_Ohgod._

_The Mirror. _

Harry suddenly found that he was gripping Remus' hand equally tight, and that his eyes were blurred with tears. Remus muttered something soothingly, and Harry wiped his eyes on his pyjama sleeve. His glasses were pressed into his hand, and he put them on. Now he could see, Remus' worry was even more evident. There were massive purple rings like bruises under his eyes, and his forehead was creased into a frown. Harry swallowed.

"Did… Did Snape – I mean, did Professor Snape tell you, Remus?" _Please don't… I didn't… I didn't want…_

Remus just nodded, looking old and sad. "Yes, Harry. I… I understand, you know. I know what you're going through. So… If you want to talk about it, then I-"

"No you don't!" Harry interrupted rudely, his jaw set and his eyes blazing. "You have no fucking IDEA what I've been through, so don't you DARE sit there all patronizing and tell me that you UNDERSTAND, that you KNOW WHAT I'm GOING THROUGH! Because you DON'T, you FUCKING WELL DON'T!" He fell silent, the look of pure hurt on Remus' face sending a stab of guilt through his heart. He bit his lip, and tried speaking more softly. "Remus, I-"

"No." Harry blanched. His old defense professor's voice was suddenly deep, reminding him of the musky blue-grey of twilight, and moonlight bleaching leaves all silver in the dark. This was not the voice of a man. Remus looked at him, his amber eyes glinting, strangely yellow. "You should know by now, Harry, that I don't lie. I don't assume, I don't mock – I would never sit here and belittle you like that! You should know that, Harry. You should already know." Harry folded his arms defensively.

"How, exactly?! You might be my parents best friend, but I don't even know you! You don't know me! You're not my father!" Remus blinked at him, and all the angry tension seemed to drain away, his face almost sagging in despair.

"No," his voice was quiet and broken as he whispered, "I was his best friend. But he's gone now. They've all gone now. Everyone I ever truly loved has died! And you, Harry… You're all I have left of them! So please… Please, I'm begging you. Please don't push me away!" Remus' eyes were now suspiciously shiny, and he was holding Harry's hand as though afraid he might try to run away.

Harry sighed, and yanked his hand out of Remus' grasp. Ignoring the man's heartbroken expression, he picked at the woolen hospital blanket and started to speak. "I… This is… I don't know what you think I saw. I don't… It was… It wasn't some sort of cursed object, Remus. It wasn't a spell, or an enchantment. I… It was like it was _alive_. Like it had grown, put down roots and spread throughout the castle, threading its poison deep into the heart of Hogwarts. It's there, Remus. Everywhere. It… It can find you, wherever you are. It always found me. It… It called to me, Remus. I could hear it. All of the time, everywhere, always calling. Calling to me, telling me… Telling me such awful… Awful things…" He trailed off, shivering. Remus placed a tentative hand on his shoulder, but Harry refused to look up.

"Harry." His old professor's voice was quiet and gentle, but Harry couldn't bear to look at him. "Harry, when I said I knew what you were going through, I meant it. I too… I too have seen the Mirror of Cosmaruri." Harry's head snapped up, and he stared at his teacher, aghast.

"Y…You've seen it?! You've seen the mirror?!" Remus nodded slowly.

"Yes. Many, many years ago, when I was just a First Year." He smiled faintly, staring off into the distance again. "It was before I was friends with your father – before I'd even spoken to Sirius." He chuckled. "Now that is strange to imagine. A world before Sirius… And James, of course. Anyway, I had been on my way to the Whomping Willow one full moon – and this is how I know it was no enchantment. Harry, there is no spell powerful enough to stop a werewolf transformation. There is no way of escaping it. That night, when I was stuck in the chamber… That is the only full-moon-lit night where I have remained human since I was three years old." Harry felt a sudden pang of sympathy for Remus, and impulsively leaned over, giving the man an awkward hug.

"I'm sorry for yelling." He muttered awkwardly, and made to move back – but before he could, Remus inhaled sharply, and as he crushed Harry into a proper hug, Harry could've sworn he saw a tear on the man's scarred cheek. Eventually, he cleared his throat, and Remus sat back, looking embarrassed.

"I apologise." He muttered, but Harry shook his head.

"Don't worry about it, Remus." There was a pause, before Harry spoke again. "I… There's something I need to tell you, Remus. It's just… It's going to make you think I'm a coward." Remus shook his head almost violently.

"Never, Harry. Nothing could ever possibly make me think that of you. Nothing!" Harry swallowed uncomfortably and nodded, blushing slightly, but Remus wasn't finished. "Honestly. The child who's Boggart is fear itself thinks he is a coward?! Ridiculous." Harry sighed.

"That's just it, Professor. I… You don't understand. My Boggart… It's a Dementor. But… But not because they represent fear. I'm not… I'm not that brave. It's because… Because whenever a Dementor comes near me, I can hear my parents deaths. I can hear them dying, and I remember… I remember all the people I've killed, all the people, their faces, their faces-" Harry broke off as he was once again forced into a bear hug from Remus.

"Don't Harry." His voice was thick with tears. "Don't ever, ever blame yourself for this! You mustn't! It wasn't your fault, Harry. None of it. None of it. Not James, not Lily and… Not Sirius. Never."

"But I… If I hadn't been so stupid-" Remus cut into his protests with an angry snarl.

"Harry! Listen to me! Sirius would NEVER have wanted you to blame yourself! Ever! He loved you, Harry, and mark my words, he would've been PROUD to die for you! To die fighting for you! It's what he would've wanted." Harry couldn't hold back the tears this time, and hugged Remus back, crying with deep sobs that made his chest ache.

"I miss him, Remus-"

_How…_

_How do you know of this?!_

"What? How do I know of what?" Harry frowned up at Remus, confused. Remus blinked.

"I… I didn't say anything, Harry." Harry looked around, bewildered, and the voice spoke again, echoing loudly, angrily through his head.

_HOW HAVE YOU SEEN THIS?!_

He blinked, mouth falling open in horror. "You can't be," he breathed.

_NO!_

_NO!_

He turned frantically to Remus, grasping the other man's robes. "Remus! He's here, he's in my head-"

_I WILL NOT GO BACK THERE!_

_NO, YOU CANNOT MAKE ME SEE THIS-_

"Voldemort." Harry whispered, before he collapsed unconscious onto the hospital bed.

_Fifty-three years ago._

_Such a long time. _

_Such a long, long time._

_I can scarcely remember it, Harry Potter._

_I… I was __still human then. Still just a boy._

_My name was Tom._

_TomMarvoloRiddle. Tom Riddle. Riddle. Tom. I AM LORD VOLDEMORT. My name was Tom. _

_I was a prefect. Fifth year, the year before I __**murderedher**__ opened the chamber. The year before I __**lostmyself**__ started down the path to immortality. _

_And, as is a prefect's duty, I would patrol the corridors. That was possibly one of the preferable moments at Hogwarts. Dumbledore __**oldfool**__ would have left me alone, and I would be away from prying eyes. There would be no one there, watching me __**judgingme.**__ I could think over new theories, new spells, things I'd learnt. Things I'd discovered __**plansplans**__. But you must know all this already, Harry Potter. Somehow, somehow, you've seen a part of me I thought I'd buried __**burnedburnedup**__ long ago._

_It was a normal day, until it happened. Just a normal Tuesday. Double History of Magic, Ancient Runes, and Transfiguration. Nothing unusual there. But…_

_It seems incredible, does it not, that I didn't realize. That I couldn't tell, that I didn't know. I knew everything, you see. I knew everything that happened within the Hogwarts walls. I knew all the news, all the rumours – the family tragedies, arguments between friends, who had money, who had power, who was the best in which classes, who stood out, who mattered. But I never saw it coming. _

_I never saw the Mirror until it was right in front of me, and my old, wrinkled, lifeless __**LIFELESS **__face stared back at me. _

_I was old, Harry Potter. _

_I, Tom Riddle, had grown old, older than Dumbledore! _

_I was hunched over, wrinkled, wizened, __**weakened**__, my whole life worn out, __**wasted**__, over. _

_And I had accomplished nothing __**NOTHING**__. _

_I would die, old and alone __**alonealone**__, with absolutely NOTHING to show for it. _

_I…_

_I swore to myself, then and there, never to let that happen. I couldn't __**couldn'tcouldn't**__ let that happen. I couldn't leave behind a world that forgot I was there, a world in which I played no part. _

_People may whisper my name in fear – but at least they remember it! They will remember me forever! __**Neverending…**_

_Just think, Harry! My name, carved with terror __**horrordisgust**__ into so many people's hearts, a shadow __**curse**__ over their lives! _

_Beautiful, isn't it? __**Beautifulbeautiful.**_

_So you see, Harry, you can never kill me! _

_I can't __**won'twon'twon't **__die! _

_Not ever!_

_EVER!_

Harry sat bolt upright, gasping, Voldemort's demonic laughter ringing in his ears. Remus sat forwards worriedly, gripping Harry's shaking shoulders. "Harry! Harry, say something! Harry, talk to me, please!" Harry just leant forwards, and rested his head against Remus' chest.

"Remus." Remus patted his back almost frantically, and placed a trembling hand on Harry's messy hair.

"Yes, Harry? What is it? Are you alright? What did… What did he say?!" Remus stiffened as Harry's shoulders started to shake. "Harry? Don't… Harry?!" Harry sat up, his eyes streaming with tears, laughter spilling almost crazily from his mouth.

"Remus! It's over! It's over! All the… All the worrying, the planning, the plotting, the _fear_, it's all over!" Remus stared at him, aghast.

"H…Harry? What do you mean? Is… Is You-Know-Who… Is he dead?!" Harry chuckled, and shook his head.

"Nah. But you don't have to worry anymore, Remus. You don't have to fear for me, anymore. You don't have to… You don't have to worry about losing me." Harry smiled, and placed a hand on Remus' face. "It's all okay now, Remus. Riddle's seen that Mirror too, you know. And it destroyed him, it tore him up inside. It turned him into a monster! But I… I've seen that Mirror. I've fought against it, and won! I've stared into that Mirror, and Riddle stared back. But… It takes more than a mirror, more than my own memories to destroy me, because… I know now. I know that... I'm not him. I'm never going to be him. I may have his flaws, his thoughts in my head, his soul, entwined around my heart... But I'll never fall to the same desperate end. I'll never let the Darkness consume my sanity. Never." Harry paused in his wild ramblings, and grinned, tears still spilling from his eyes, as he whispered, "I know that I'm stronger than him."

Remus smiled tentatively back, the first gleams of hope alighting in his eyes. "I'm so much stronger," Harry breathed, "So much more powerful... I... For the first time... For the first time I actually do believe... That I can do this."

"Do what?" Dumbledore's voice, wise and kindly, rang through the Hospital Wing, and Harry looked up, beaming, his eyes glittering with determination.

"I can win."

**Author's Note:**

Thanatophobia – A fear of death.

Thanks to TimeAndRhythmDoesIndeedSleep for my **100****th**** EVER review**! Not only that, but this chapter contains my **100,000****th**** word** on ! So thanks to everyone who has read my stories, reviewed, and made this whole writing thing worthwhile!

Well, that's it! I hope everyone liked this story – and feel free to check out some of my others!


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